


The Warriors of Tartarus

by Lost_And_Longing



Series: The Long Road Home [2]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Ranger's Apprentice - John Flanagan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Angst, Crossover, Drama, F/M, Family, Friendship, Gen, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Percy Jackson and the Olympians crossover, Plot, bamf Halt, gotta get there first though my dudes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2019-05-18 14:48:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 35,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14854823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lost_And_Longing/pseuds/Lost_And_Longing
Summary: Will never thought he'd end up in Hell. Yet here he was, fighting a primordial deity with nothing more than the clothes on his back and Horace, Alyss, and Cassandra, the three demigods who'd fallen into Tartarus along with him.Maybe he should back up. It all started a few months before, with the sighting of a new race of monsters called the Temujai...Percy Jackson/Ranger's Apprentice crossover. Sequel to The Rangers of Apollo.





	1. Chapter 1

As far as half-human, half-monster distortions of nature went, Temujai were some of the worst.

First off, their claws were way too sharp, as evidenced by the blood dripping from a deep cut in Will's arm. Secondly, their ability to fly via ominously floating around? That was entirely unfair. Will had no experience shooting  _at_ the sky. This became obvious once you looked at the half-dozen arrows sticking futilely out of the surrounding trees. And thirdly, the Temujai's high-pitched, supersonic screams were getting really irritating. If Will had to deal with one more nosebleed, he'd scream right back at them.

"Will! To your right!"

Will spun and loosed an arrow to his right. An unearthly howl split the evening air, telling him he'd hit his mark. Will watched as the wraith-like form of the Tem'uj shuddered from the impact, the grey-shafted arrow sticking out of one shoulder. It hadn't been a very good hit, he noted with a sigh, but at least it had been a hit. They moved so quickly and so unpredictably that even Halt, the owner of the voice who'd just spoken, had been having some trouble. Of course, Halt's version of trouble was an arrow landing an inch away from its mark. Will's version of trouble was two feet off and into a tree. 

The Tem'uj screeched again and dove straight for Will, moving terrifyingly quickly. Caught off-guard, Will threw his empty hand above him in defense and accessed the deep well of godly power inside him. A sphere of light sprang forth from it and shot at the creature, who recoiled, claws moving towards the black holes that stood in for eyes. 

Knowing that it would take a second for the creature to regain its sight, Will cast a hasty glance around. He and his master, the Ranger Halt, had been ambushed on their way back to the simple cabin that was their abode. Three Temujai - more than they'd ever had to deal with before - had swooped down seemingly out of nowhere. The two Rangers had been fighting for long minutes and only dispatched one of the monsters. Halt was currently working on the second, and it was all Will could do to keep the third occupied. 

Will's eyes shot back to his own target, who was still circling warily, and then once more to Halt and his Tem'uj. Half a dozen arrows stuck out of the creature's heart - if indeed it even had one. Merely one of Halt's thick-shafted, celestial bronze-headed arrows would've been enough to kill any other monster. It was a testament to the creatures's prowess that it hadn't disintegrated yet. Will was relieved to see that the arrows had at least weakened it, though. It had finally descended from the air to fight Halt on the ground. It must have had human legs under the tattered black robes it wore, for it moved almost inhumanly quickly. Halt's pitch-black, Stygian iron daggers matched the Tem'uj's blackened claws almost perfectly. 

A slight breeze pressed against Will's skin. Alarmed, he glanced back up at his target, only to find that it wasn't there anymore. Will instinctively threw himself to the left. He landed hard on one shoulder just in time to see similar claws miss him by inches. Will closed his hand around his throwing knife, aimed, and threw. Throwing away one of his two knives like that wasn't smart, but he hadn't many other choices. 

The monster flinched back. Will dared another glance in Halt's direction: the Ranger was still fully occupied with the other creature. The boy hesitated, then made a split-second decision. He dropped his bow, held out his hands, and summoned up his powers. 

A bolt of energy sprang from his fingertips, so powerful Will's hair stood on end. Too late, the monster attempted to dodge. The distinct smell of burning flesh seared Will's senses and he cringed. The Tem'uj let out a shriek, wildly flailed its limbs and claws, and hit the ground with a resounding thud. Within seconds it had crumbled to dust.

At almost the same instant, Will faltered and grabbed onto a nearby tree limb to keep him upright. _I made a mistake,_ he thought. He grimaced. His stomach felt like it was going to implode. Ever since he'd discovered he'd been given the power to control light by Apollo, his father, he'd worked to master the ability. He'd gotten much better at it now that he'd been training for a year and a half, but using that amount of power never failed to exhaust him. 

From a short distance away came a long, drawn-out screech that made Will clap a hand to his ears. He snapped his head around just in time to see Halt's Tem'uj slowly turn to dust. Before it could disperse, it was absorbed by the black knives the Ranger carried. Halt caught the knife that had given the death-blow in midair as the flesh which had held it disintegrated. With practiced ease, he wiped it and his other knife - a long, thick, oddly shaped knife the Rangers called a saxe knife - off on the mottled grey-green cloak he wore. He sheathed them both on the double scabbard he wore on his belt. Slipping his bow over his shoulder, he then turned to Will.

One of the many things Will had always found highly unnerving about his master was his uncanny ability to maintain awareness of his surroundings. No other warrior, demigod or no, would ever have sheathed their weapons until they'd checked to make sure their allies were safe. Will knew that Halt hadn't sheathed his weapons out of negligence or apathy, but because he knew Will had already finished the other Temujai off.

"Are you hurt?" Halt asked, coming up to his apprentice and inspecting him with a keen, dark-eyed glance. 

Those eyes were another one of the things many found unsettling about the Ranger. Even fellow Rangers spoke of them as being as dark as death itself. The comparison was fitting, seeing as Halt was the son of Hades, god of the dead. With similarly dark, unkempt hair and beard, and knives made of iron forged from the Underworld, Halt certainly cut an intimidating figure. 

"Got a cut on my shoulder," Will responded, motioning to it with his good arm. "It stings, but it'll be fine by tomorrow. How...how about you?"

He stifled a yawn in his last sentence, the exhaustion of using his godly powers weighing on him. Halt's eyes narrowed and Will realized with a sinking feeling that the Ranger already knew exactly how Will had killed his target. 

"I'm fine. I'd probably be better if that stunt you pulled with your Temujai hadn't nearly given me a heart attack, though."

Will winced. He had the feeling he was in for a lecture. Halt wasn't his parent - that title was stolen by a god Will had never even met. He wasn't even a relation of Will's, since godly relations were always iffy at best. However, Halt could still lecture with the best of them.

"Will, we've been over this. You aren't to use your powers in combat until you've grown strong enough to use them well."

As the first child of Apollo, god of the sun and music, to receive photokinesis, Will was something of an anomaly. It was rare enough for a demigod to be able to control fire; for a demigod to control light was unheard of. The feat had earned him the attention of gods and demigods alike. Halt was right in wanting to keep Will as safe as possible until he'd learned to use such an unprecedented power. 

Will looked down. "I know."

"If you know, then why did you do so anyway?"

The boy bit his lip and shifted uncomfortably. After what had happened a year ago - Ferris and Will's betrayal of the Rangers and Halt's near death - Will had desperately tried to make amends for all the wrong he'd been accomplice to. He'd gained the forgiveness of most of the Rangers and even some of the nicer gods, but he'd never truly felt forgiven.

Perhaps because Halt had never told him he was.

"I didn't think it'd matter," he muttered after a pregnant pause. "I wanted to take down one of them. And I did! I'm not useless, or-"

"Will, no one's ever said you're useless," Halt broke in, irritation tinging his voice. "But you are reckless, and taking down a dangerous monster using volatile and unpredictable techniques is incredibly risky." 

Will couldn't think of anything to say to that. He just hung his head. Inside, he seethed with frustration along with the same pain he'd carried inside him for over a year now. Gilan, Will's best friend in the Ranger Corps, had forgiven Will long ago. Even Crowley, the Ranger Commandant, had forgiven him. But as each day had passed by, Will had eventually stopped hoping Halt would ever do the same. It felt like their relationship was stuck in a rut. Halt would never trust him or treat him as anything other than a reckless kid, no matter how hard Will tried to convince him otherwise.

"That aside," Halt continued, the irritation fading, "this is now the fourth Temujai attack we've had to fend off in the span of two weeks. The timing and number of the attacks seems to be growing instead of diminishing. I think we need to report this to Crowley in person."

Will nodded. He pushed himself off the tree and swayed for a second before regaining equilibrium. "When are we leaving?"

"At dawn tomorrow. It's too dangerous to travel at night now."

Will wholeheartedly agreed with that. He shuddered to think about how difficult fighting a Temujai in the dark would be.

The clearing was dark now, the setting sun having vanished behind the treeline. The sky still echoed a few of sunset's colors but they were rapidly fading. Will and Halt wordlessly collected the arrows they'd spent and put them back into their quivers. If they had been fighting mortals who bled instead of monsters who dusted, they wouldn't have collected them. But since monsters' remains never, well, remained, there was nothing wrong with scavenging their arrows. 

The walk back to Halt's cabin was quiet as well, the silence only occasionally broken by a few words scattered here and there. Halt pointed out a few sets of tracks and Will identified them. Will asked what they were having for dinner and Halt huffed and muttered something about teenage boys and food. The forest recovered quickly from the Temujai attack and regained its former serenity easily. The crickets, cicadas, and frogs started up a soothing chorus. The occasional owl and whippoorwill joined in. 

Tug and Abelard, Will and Halt's horses, greeted them from the yard as they strode up. Ranger horses were all the offspring, direct or otherwise, of immortals. It was a long, complicated, and kind of gross story, but all Ranger horses hailed directly from one of Poseidon's immortal, equine offspring. This gave Ranger horses stamina and speed beyond mortal horses and an intelligence as great as any human's. 

Will affectionately ran a hand down Tug's neck. "Hey, boy. Whatcha been up to today?"

Tug snorted. The look in his eyes seemed to say, _N_ _othing, but I bet I would've helped you take down those Temujai if Halt hadn't insisted we horses stay behind._

"Will!" Halt called before Will could respond to Tug. "Come help me with dinner!"

Will reluctantly disentangled himself from Tug and went to join Halt inside.

Dinner was quick and informal, per usual. The two ate off of simple dishes and made simple conversation. Afterwards they cleaned, did evening chores, and tended to their horses. The two Rangers went off to bed early. 

Despite how tired he was, however, Will found sleep elusive. He stared up at his darkened ceiling for what felt like hours, dreading the morning. When he at last went to sleep, he dreamed of darkness, fear, and a feminine voice murmuring  _soon, soon, soon._

When he woke the next morning, he was terrified and had no idea why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!   
> For those who read the author's note from my prequel, The Rangers of Apollo, I decided I won't be writing the oneshot of Halt forgiving Will. I know it makes me seem completely heartless, but it's needed for plot and character development. Anyway, hope you enjoyed. ❤


	2. Chapter 2

Will stood, staring in trepidation at the elevator that would take him and Halt up to the halls of Olympus.

The last time he'd been here was over a year ago, during what had come to be called the Battle of Olympus. Ferris and his army of monsters had invaded Olympus in an attempt to destroy the gods and kill Halt. He had almost overwhelmed the only defenders of Olympus, the Rangers, when Will jumped in front of him and mysteriously turned him to stone. To this day Will had no idea how he had managed to do it. He'd tried to replicate the event but had only ever gotten a searing pain in the head for his efforts. 

Although Will knew he was instrumental for their victory over Ferris, however, the guilt remained. He knew that it was because of his spying on the Rangers that Ferris had been able to overwhelm so many of them in the first place. Will had taught Ferris the Rangers's tactics, strengths, and weaknesses, and it was because of that that three of them were now dead.

He wasn't sure he could take going back up there again.

Looking over at Halt, Will saw his master watching him with an unreadable expression. No doubt he was thinking of the same events Will was. Hopefully Will would be able to avoid Halt for most of the time in Olympus - he didn't think the man was going to be acting very agreeable in the near future.

"Come along, Will. We don't have all day," Halt said, snapping him out of his thoughts.

He stepped into the elevator; Will hesitated, then followed. Halt swiped the key-card that granted entrance to the 600th floor. Their agonizingly slow ascent was utterly silent except for Copacabana by Barry Manilow playing. 

Finally the elevator slid to a stop. Will swallowed as the doors opened, showing him the narrow walkway to the gates of Olympus. Hundreds of feet below, he could see the streets of New York. Its people were scarcely dots against the ground. Distractedly, he wondered if that was why the gods were like they were - if all mortals looked that tiny to them.

Halt eyed him once more before stepping out of the elevator. He started up a brisk pace, leaving Will with two choices: follow or be left behind.

Will sighed. He didn't want to be here. All he wanted to do was go back home- go back to Halt's house. But he knew it was implausible. Not only because disobeying his mentor was a terrible idea. Far more compelling was the fact that Halt would never trust him again if he fled. Will knew that if he turned around and pressed the button, Halt would know that Will wasn't trustworthy. 

Perhaps Will would never earn Halt's forgiveness. But maybe he could at least earn back his trust.

With his mind made up, Will pushed past the elevator doors and followed Halt through the gate.

Olympus was a place entirely beyond mortality. Everything - the food, the architecture, the citizens - was on a grander scale than you could ever find in even the finest human cities. Will had been impressed with the sheer grandeur of Olympus on his first visit. Despite the bitter memories welling up inside his head, those feelings remained.

Olympus was built of white marble, celestial bronze, and gold. The walkways were built of marble, and the stately Grecian columns decorated with ornate gilded designs. Well-kept orchards filled with olive and laurel trees surrounded open-air marketplaces. Will and Halt strolled through them past vendors selling dozens of different ambrosia and nectar-filled delicacies. 

After the marketplace came the actual homes of the gods who resided in Olympus. Most gods who lived there were minor gods - immortal, but not very powerful. Even their houses, however, were breathtakingly beautiful. All were built in varying Grecian styles but each was unique. One was covered in flowers; another lit by flickering crystals; another seemingly submerged into a swamp. Some were covered in jewels or built entirely out of seaweed or roofed with spear blades. One especially remarkable house had apparently been grown out of a tree. 

"Halt, I was wondering-"

Halt gave a long-suffering sigh.

"See that?" Will pointed at the tree-house. "How is that done? Is it like the satyr's wood-magic that can grow plants at will?"

"Probably something similar. Some minor god of the woods most likely has divine powers similar to the satyrs's and decided to grow himself a house."

"Don't wood gods normally live in the actual woods though?" Will asked. 

Halt huffed. "Being allowed to live in Olympus is quite an honor. It'd take a foolish god to refuse to have a home here."

Halt's tone was just irritated enough that Will knew better than to ask any more questions. He obligingly shut his mouth and continued walking.

In what seemed like no time at all, they had passed by the abodes of the minor gods. Now what loomed in front of them was so vast even a billionaire's mansion was no comparison. The hall of the Olympians was enormous, built for beings whose natural form was thrice the size of a man. Like the rest of Olympus, it was built of white marble in the style of ancient Greece. The massive front doors had lightning bolts as their handles, and the walls flickered occasionally as though a perpetual lightning storm had been encased in the marble. 

The two Rangers strode up to the doors. They creaked open soundlessly.

Several dozen yards away stood the entrance to the throne room of the gods. The doors were shut, but Will could hear low, disagreeable voices inside. He and Halt ignored that, turned to the hall to the right, and started down it. The Ranger Corps headquarters were inside this massive building, put in as an afterthought when the Corps had been established hundreds of years ago.

As they walked, Will couldn't help but glance back at the throne room. He wondered if his father were in there right now. Had he been one of those voices Will had just heard? What would he have thought if Will had barged in there? Would he have been angry?

Of course he would have been, Will thought bitterly. After all, Will had never even had a conversation with Apollo. Now that Will had betrayed his Rangers, he was sure his dad liked him even less. 

Even still, he wished he could meet him. Just once. Just once to finally end the suspense he'd been under ever since that lyre had appeared over his head, claiming him as Apollo's. He briefly considered asking Halt if he could try to find Apollo, but then swallowed and looked down. He highly doubted Halt would let him go off on his own. And in any case, the mission they were on right now was urgent. They didn't have time to waste. 

"I don't think Apollo's here," Halt said suddenly, as though he could read Will's mind.

The boy jumped, startled both by the sudden speech and the content of it. "What?"

"I can't sense Apollo right now. Wherever he is, he isn't here."

"Oh." Will wasn't sure if he were disappointed or relieved.

The two walked on for another minute or so in silence. Then Halt said, 

"He isn't angry at you if that's what you're worried about."

An indignant question - how would you know? - sprang to Will's lips but he shook it off. There wasn't any point in riling Halt up. Instead he just turned his head straight forward and kept walking.

 

* * *

 

"Will, Halt! What brings you here? I haven't seen you since the Gathering two months ago."

Now inside the far smaller and less luxurious Corps headquarters, Will and Halt sat down at a plain, rough-hewn table across from the Ranger Commandant Crowley.

Every January, the Rangers held a Corps-wide meeting that lasted for a week. For full-fledged Rangers, this was an opportunity to catch up with old friends, train, and strategize for the year ahead. For apprentices, the Gathering was the time of their yearly assessment. Will had just passed his second year assessment, making him officially a third year apprentice. 

Crowley sat back in his chair and shuffled some papers - probably reports. A son of Hermes, the Commandant had his father's charm and mischievous streak. He had sandy hair and a playful grin completely opposite to Halt's constant stoic expression. 

"Do you recall the report I sent in two months ago about that new race of monsters we encountered?" Halt asked quietly. 

Instantly Crowley tensed. It was subtle, but Will had been trained to notice the stiff fingers, tight jaw, shortened breath.

"You mean the Temujai?"

"Yes. They've been appearing in greater and greater numbers recently. Even one is difficult for a Ranger to handle. Yesterday Will and I killed three. If we don't do something soon their sheer numbers will overwhelm us."

Crowley's expression darkened. When he spoke his tone was somber. "I've been receiving the same intel from the other Rangers. Gilan and the other more junior Rangers are struggling to maintain hold of their stations. The senior Rangers are doing better, but the situation is worsening rapidly."

"We need to figure out where they're coming from," Halt said. "An entire new race of monsters appearing out of nowhere is unprecedented. We need to find who or what created them."

"Agreed," Crowley said heavily, wiping a hand over his brow. Will abruptly noticed how tired he looked. He looked as though he hadn't had a good night of sleep in weeks. "I have Berrigan, Sol, and a few other senior Rangers looking into it already. I'd like to put you on the investigation as well, but with an apprentice, it'd be too dangerous."

"Gilan can take over his training," Halt said with a glance over at Will. His eyes flashed with something Will couldn't identify. "He took over several months ago when we went on that drakon-hunting mission, remember?"

Will's expression soured. Last May, Halt and half a dozen other senior Rangers had been called away for a high-priority mission. Three drakons had reformed simultaneously and started terrorizing northeast United States and southeast Canada. Will, being a second-year apprentice - and not to mention still on probation - hadn't been allowed to come. They had sent him to stay with Gilan for the duration of the mission in order that his training not be interrupted. 

Now, it wasn't Gilan that Will had a problem with. In fact, the young Ranger was Will's best friend in the Corps and possibly the whole world. What Will had a problem with was that just when he'd thought Halt and he were starting to get past their differences, they'd gotten separated. Then the mission had slowly become more and more complicated. Three drakons had turned into four. A posse of Empousai had reformed. A band of Hyperborean giants had joined up with the Empousai. The Rangers had eventually managed to dispatch them all, but it took almost six months before it was safe for them to return. By the time they came back, Will and Halt were back to square one.

"Yes," Crowley was saying, either not noticing or ignoring Will's expression, "but although Gilan did a fine job of teaching Will, it's not fair to either of them if we do that again. In addition, I think what happened last year is connected to this. I think last year's mission was just the precursor to what they are preparing now. It was just them testing us to see how ready we are. Now that they've scoped out our abilities, they don't need to hold back anymore. I need every Ranger at arms. Apprentices as well."

"What is our assignment, then?" Halt asked. He leaned back in his chair. 

"We need to make sure all of our allies are holding up. It's good strategy to find the weakest link of your opponent and break it. Camp Half-Blood is the perfect target for a monster invasion - hundreds of young, untrained demigods all in one spot with minimal protection. I'm going to station a dozen or so Rangers there permanently, but until they get there I need you and Will to go there and assist them as best you can."

Crowley considered a moment and flipped through a report. "I think I'll have Gilan come along with you as well. He's currently in the hospital wing getting patched up."

"Hospital wing?" Will interrupted, horrified. "Is he okay?"

Crowley looked at Will for a moment.

"Sorry! Sorry, I didn't mean to- but is he okay? He's not injured or anything, is he?"

"Injuries are generally why people go to the hospital in the first place," Halt said dryly. 

Crowley shook his head in exasperation, but Will noticed a smile starting to form on his lips. "Oh, he's fine. Had a bit of a run-in with a Temujai on the way here, but it's nothing a bit of ambrosia and a healer can't patch up. He's probably fine to go right now, actually. I'll go get him."

"Can I come with you?" Will put in, bouncing a bit on his toes. "I haven't seen him in months."

Crowley and Halt exchanged glances. "Sure, why not?"

 

* * *

 

The hospital wing wasn't really much of a wing. Gods rarely got injured and when they did, all they needed was a bit of ambrosia. The only reason a medical center had even been set up was because of the Rangers. Because of that it was a tiny place, barely bigger than Halt's house.

As Crowley and Will strode in, the first thing Will noticed was that it hadn't changed a bit since he'd last been there. The entire building was built of celestial bronze, but the walls on the inside were a sterile white. The floor was celestial bronze. It reflected the light of the oil lamps set up on the walls, making the building surprisingly bright. In several neat rows stood celestial bronze beds clothed in golden bed-sheets - a tribute to Apollo, the god of healing. 

Will looked around and spotted Gilan on one of the beds, talking to an older-looking minor god dressed in scrubs. The two looked up at Crowley and Will's entry. Gilan's face split into a grin.

"Will! I wasn't expecting to see you here!"

Will ran over. He went to hug Gilan but paused, scanning him rapidly. "Are you okay? I heard you got injured fighting a Temujai. Was it hard? How'd you kill it? How-"

Gilan laughed, stood up, and embraced Will, cutting off his stream of words. After a few seconds he pulled back and lifted his shirt to show Will the injury. Will saw a faint pink line against Gilan's tan skin. It ran along his ribs diagonally down to his stomach. It was fairly long, but clean and already mostly healed.

"I'm fine. It's nothing a night of rest and a bit of ambrosia won't heal. The Temujai didn't go down easy, but it's dust now. Hopefully I won't be seeing it anytime soon. Why are you here, by the way? Have you and Halt been dealing with them too?"

Will nodded grimly. "We killed three last night. Halt decided to report it to Crowley, so here we are."

Gilan fought back a smile at Will's overly mature tone. He was trying very hard to model himself after Halt, Gilan thought - way too hard. Then again, Gilan really couldn't judge him for doing so. It was what he'd done when he'd been Halt's apprentice himself.

"Three? Damn. Well, I guess you didn't come to see me just to exchange pleasantries, then."

Crowley stepped forward. After a pointed look and raised eyebrow, the minor god nurse found somewhere else to be. "You'd be right. I'm sending you, Halt, and Will to Camp Half-Blood in order to assist them until I can station a contingent of Rangers there permanently. I'd like you to leave as soon as your injury's healed."

"We can leave now then," Gilan offered. "Waiting an extra day won't do anything much for it and the camp could be in danger. I can't imagine they haven't been fighting their own Temujai already. They've probably already suffered casualties."

Crowley sighed. "Most likely. This feels like the beginning of an invasion force. I don't like it at all. I don't usually get the dreams some demigods get, but even I'm starting to lose sleep from the nightmares now. Something is coming. Something ancient and powerful. As powerful as Kronos, maybe even more so."

Gilan's lips pinched. "More powerful than Kronos?"

Crowley lifted a shoulder. Abruptly, his sober demeanor lightened. Will recognized it as an attempt not to frighten them too much. "We'll see. I have other Rangers running various investigations at the moment. It could be this is nothing more than some especially angry group of monsters. They haven't seemed to coordinate at all yet, which is promising. Hopefully we'll be able to put this behind us in a few weeks or months."

Gilan nodded, but Will noticed he didn't look convinced. However, he eyed Will and shut his mouth. "Right. Well, let's be off. The journey to Camp Half-Blood isn't going to complete itself, after all."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed!


	3. Chapter 3

It was a bittersweet feeling, casting eyes on Camp Half-Blood once more.

Growing up, Will had never truly had a home. As far as he could tell, Apollo had abandoned him shortly after his birth. His mother had died of tuberculosis when he was ten. How he managed to escape the same fate he never knew - perhaps it was due to the godly part of him.

Will had been adopted after that. His first family had been lovely, but after the wife had died, Will was disrupted, meaning the adoption had been retracted. In retrospect, Will couldn't blame the husband for not being able to deal with Will after losing his wife. Foster kids were known for their behavioral issues and Will had been no exception. He'd had horrific separation anxiety to the point where he practically had breakdowns whenever the wife had tried to leave the house. After her death it had worsened to the point where the husband could hardly leave the room. It was an ugly situation all around. 

That didn't mean it didn't hurt. 

Some days, Will would still wake up to find Halt not in the cabin and have a panic attack.

But it was fine. Really. He was just a troubled kid, and troubled kids weren't loved like the others were.

After being shuffled around from home to home for the next three years, Will finally decided enough was enough and ran away. From then he lived on the streets, making drug runs, selling newspapers, and whatever else he had to do to get by. Then at age fifteen he'd been attacked by his first monster and found by Ferris. He'd brought Will to Camp Half-Blood, the training camp and haven for Greek demigods. And finally Will had begun to feel like he'd at last found a home.

Then Ferris had held a sword to his neck and threatened him with death.

After that, Will had stopped hoping for a home.

"It's been a long time since I saw this place," Gilan commented from in front of Will. He, Halt, and Will were mounted up on their shaggy Ranger horses. They gazed down at the camp from atop a crested hill. It looked achingly identical to when Will had last seen it. The lake glimmered in the noonday light; a few campers were out there, paddling canoes or swimming. A group of campers sparred in the arena. Lava poured from the top of the climbing wall and Will winced in memory of his times climbing it.

The two Rangers sat there for a long moment, eyes flicking around. Will took the opportunity to scrounge a square of ambrosia out of his saddlebag. The three had just fought two Temujai. Will had gotten himself thrown into a tree by one of them right before Halt's arrow had taken it down. The apprentice had originally thought it was nothing, but now his vision was swimming. He had a feeling he was concussed.

Halt gave a signal with one hand. Gilan and Will responded instantly. The three horses moved in unison down the grassy slope towards Camp Half-Blood. Will shoved the ambrosia square into his mouth and chewed up the resulting sawdust as they descended. 

In the short time Will had had at camp, he'd not been able to meet even half of the demigods there. Of course he'd gotten to know all of his cabin-mates fairly well, along with a few others (the image of Alyss, one of Athena's daughters, popped into his head and he smiled). But as they rode through camp Will was surprised to see there was a fair number of teenagers he didn't recognize at all.

The three rode up to the Big House, dismounted wordlessly, and strode in. The porch was empty but as they entered the building, Chiron clopped up in full centaur mode. Will thought it odd - he thought Chiron normally went into his wheelchair when indoors - but said nothing.

"Halt, my old friend," Chiron greeted, then glanced at Gilan and Will. He tilted his head before recognition lit his eyes. "Gilan! And Will, my boy."

The endearment made Will swallow. He nodded his head awkwardly in acknowledgment.

"It's good to see you again," Halt said, a flicker of a smile on his face. "I wish it were under better circumstances, however. Crowley sent us to aid in the defense of Camp Half-Blood in case it should fall under attack."

There was a slight pause as Chiron's gaze flicked to Gilan and Will, probably considering how much of a help they'd be. Then he nodded gravely. "I assume you speak of the Temujai."

Halt dipped his head.

"We've been fortunate so far. We've seen only a scattered few of the monsters on the horizon, and only two have ever attempted to lay siege to the camp. Peleus took care of them rather promptly. However, the Oracle doesn't think this luck will last much longer. She foresees..."

Chiron sighed. "She's prophesied our doom, or something close to it."

It was as if a candle had been snuffed, so quickly did Halt and Gilan's expressions darken.

"What has she said?" Halt asked.

"She isn't very lucid," Chiron said grimly. "We've only gotten scattered bits of phrases, nothing like the Great Prophecy of old. What we've managed to gather isn't good. She speaks of Gaea and her consort, the lord of Tartarus."

There was a short pause. Halt looked as though he'd rather have heard anything else. "Morgarath and Gaea are rising once more?"

"Yes. Even now, the earth shakes. My campers are troubled with nightmares every night. They dream of the Earth Mother and the Abyss Lord whispering in their ears, speaking of death and destruction. Their children are awakening. I can sense them even now. The Gigantes."

Halt muttered a low curse. "The Titans weren't enough for them, I suppose."

"As powerful as Titans are, they at least can be killed by any creature, mortal or immortal. The Gigantes, on the other hand..."

"Hold on," Will interjected after Chiron trailed off, "what is a Gigantes? Why can't they be killed?"

"The Gigantes are children of Gaea and Morgarath," Chiron said. "They are what you would call giants nowadays. However, each Gigas was created specifically to oppose one of the gods. Each one counteracts the powers of its opposite god. To make matters worse, they can only be killed by mortals and immortals working together."

Will tried to take all that information in. "So a demigod and a god together would have to kill one?"

"Precisely. As the gods aren't exactly up for fighting right now, you can see how this is a problem."

Roman demigods and their godly parents had been known to the Greek demigods for several decades now. Will hadn't been told the full story, but after the first Great Prophecy was completed, the Rangers had found the Romans and negotiated a truce. This truce had become so effective that Roman demigods were allowed into the Corps. Gilan, son of the Roman goddess of war, Bellona, was a prime example of this.

However, over the past few months, the gods had become less stable. Whereas before the gods had been able to contain both their Greek and Roman forms at once, now they were barely able to control their powers and sanity. Some gods, like Aphrodite and Nemesis, could still function properly, but many had become incapacitated. If a Gigas could only be killed by a god and a demigod together, there weren't many options on the godly side.

"What are we going to do?" Will asked. His voice was small.

Halt cast a swift glance over at him. When he spoke, his voice was reassuring. "Whatever we can. There are ways of incapacitating them until we can find a god who can kill them."

Chiron nodded, shifting his hooves. "Well said. We must simply wait until the Oracle reveals how we are to defeat our foe. In the mean time, we-"

A sudden tumult of feet and voices reached their ears. The four snapped their gazes towards the door. 

It slammed open. In rushed two demigods dressed in Camp Half-Blood armor: an orange t-shirt and jeans with a breastplate and helmet on top. Both were girls around Will's age. The first had gold-blonde hair, a small frame, and determined eyes. The second had ash-blonde hair, a tall, lean frame, and her grey eyes...

Will's pulse stuttered. He'd recognize those grey eyes anywhere. They belonged to Alyss, daughter of Athena. 

"Chiron," the unfamiliar demigod said, "the invasion you expected has finally come. You need to come immediately. Peleus will be overwhelmed soon."

"How many?" Chiron asked.

Halt and Gilan were already moving, bows in hand. The strange mottling of their cloaks made them hard to watch even while moving. Will hesitated, glancing at Alyss.

"I don't know," the other girl said. Her green eyes had bags under them and she looked exhausted, but her voice was as hard as flint. "Horace and the other head counselors are doing the best they can to get everyone in order."

"Is it the Temujai?" Halt asked. Chiron had begun to move now and the demigods with him. They strode out the door and down the steps. Alyss and the other female demigod took the lead.

"From what we've seen so far." Alyss responded this time. The presence of the three Rangers didn't seem to affect her in the slightest.

Alyss's voice was lower than Will had remembered. She looked just as tired as the other demigod, but just as determined. She had twin daggers strapped on either side of her body - another novelty. Will had thought Alyss fought with a sword.

Once they got down to the cabin area, everything turned to chaos. There were demigods everywhere - strapping on armor, tying shoelaces, stocking up on ambrosia. A few demigods saddled horses. With another jump in his pulse, Will saw Jenny, daughter of Hebe, next to one of her half-sisters. The sight was jarring, just like it had been with Alyss. He couldn't help but remember how Ferris had threatened to kill the two of them just months before. He wondered where George, Alyss's half-brother, was. He'd been a part of the threat as well.

Chiron halted in the center of the space. The three Rangers and two campers stopped with him. 

Halt and Gilan exchanged glances. Halt turned to Chiron. "Gilan and I will go to Peleus's tree and aid him until you can organize your campers."

"Ranger," the girl with green eyes broke in, "that's suicide! The Temujai are far too strong for you-"

Halt turned a level, unwavering gaze on her. "I wouldn't plan to go if I thought there were a high chance of dying, princess."

The girl flinched. "How- how do you-"

"We won't be able to hold them for long." Halt continued on as though she'd never spoken. "Please hurry."

Without so much as a backwards glance, the two Rangers were gone. 

"Alyss, Cassandra, have you attended to your cabins?" Chiron asked.

"I put George in charge while we came to inform you of what was happening," Alyss answered. "I'm certain things are running smoothly."

"I'm not the head counselor of mine," the other camper, Cassandra, said with a shrug. "Not much attending to be done."

"Alright. Then..." Chiron trailed off. He looked at Will. "Will, go to Apollo's cabin and fight with your siblings. You'll be much appreciated, I'm sure."

"...yes, sir," Will said slowly. He felt winded, as though Halt's sudden departure and Chiron's casual dismissal of him had taken the breath out of him. He was a Ranger! An apprentice, but still a Ranger. He shouldn't be treated like some five-year-old kid who couldn't be trusted with anything important. It wasn't  _fair._

"Will?" Alyss asked, snapping Will out of his self-pitying spree. "Is that really you?" 

"Uh, yes?" He pushed back the hood of his cloak and gave her a strained smile.

"It's been ages! I know you became an apprentice to the Rangers, but I was worried something had happened to you. You never IM'ed or anything..."

Will swallowed. Familiar guilt cut into him once more. "Sorry, Alyss. I...things came up and..."

"It's alright," she said after a few seconds passed. "I'm just glad you're okay."

She smiled at him and Will felt as though a ray of sunlight had shot into his chest. He grinned back almost stupidly big. Some things, it seemed, hadn't changed. His crush on Alyss was just as strong as ever.

Once the moment passed, the three demigods headed off to their duties. Cassandra broke off to join her siblings, the children of Hecate. There were only a few other demigods there, but looking at them, Will didn't think he'd want to get on any of their bad sides. 

Alyss lead him over to where the Apollo, Athena, and Ares cabins had converged together. Apparently the head counselor of the Ares cabin, Horace, had become good friends with Alyss, who was the head counselor of Athena cabin. Alyss was also good friends with the head counselor of Apollo cabin, a curly-haired, African American girl named Mikaela. Because of that, the three cabins had decided to band together in case of an attack.

"Is everyone in my cabin armed properly?" Alyss asked as they strode over.

As they were three of the bigger cabins, the space where they stood - the armory - was full practically to the point of claustrophobia. Will thought there could've been more than sixty demigods from the three cabins - maybe even seventy. The three cabins had grown a dozen or so people in the past two years. Will supposed the gods had been quite busy. 

As everyone nodded, Alyss motioned to Will. "This is Will. He's a son of Apollo and an apprentice Ranger. Some of you might remember him from when he was a camper here, but others might not. He will be helping us fight today."

Will gave a small wave. Then he made eye contact with the head counselor of Ares cabin. His eyes widened in surprise and he hastily tore his gaze away.

When the campers had talked about a Horace being head counselor of Ares cabin, Will had sincerely hoped they'd meant a different Horace than the one he'd met two years before. Unfortunately, they apparently hadn't.

During Will's few weeks at camp, Horace Altman had been one of the few people Will hadn't gotten along with. Life on the streets had taught Will to either get along with or avoid everyone he met. Horace had intentionally, negatively sought him out and bullied him on several different occasions. Seeing the boy again put a sour taste in Will's mouth. 

"How can he help?" Horace asked. "He's only an apprentice, correct?"

His tone was even and not in the least bit contemptuous. Despite that, however, Will bristled. He doubted two years had done anything to transform Horace. Bullies never changed.

"Even apprentice Rangers are knowledgeable in tactics and battle," Alyss said calmly. "Whereas we have learned only from experience, Will has learned from both experience and a full-fledged Ranger. He is bound to be a capable tactician, and a good fighter as well. Will is a respectable and capable demigod, and it'd be wise to treat him as such."

Horace considered that for a moment, then nodded. Turning to Will, he held out a hand. "It's nice to have you join us."

Will hesitated. He didn't trust how Horace had been so easily persuaded. But, not wanting to look stupid in front of the others, Will cautiously accepted the gesture and shook hands. 

Several Apollo campers came up next - old faces that Will recognized. They greeted him cordially and instantly accepted him back into their midst. Mikaela, the head counselor and one of his closer friends, gave him a hug. 

"We need to move quickly," Alyss said once they'd all settled down. "The camp borders are being besieged at this instant. We don't have time to form a full plan of attack."

Will put up a hand. "Um, can I say something?"

"You just did," was the teasing response, "but you can say something else, too."

A couple of the campers tittered. Will flushed. "I've fought the Temujai before several times. I know a lot about them - their weaknesses, their strengths, their tactics. Like you said, we don't have time for a full plan, but..."

He took a breath. "I have an idea." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here comes the plot


	4. Chapter 4

"FOR CAMP HALF-BLOOD!"

An orange-tinged wave of campers swept through the battlefield, weapons raised as they charged. The warriors of the Apollo, Athena, and Ares cabins were headed by their respective leaders who ran at the forefront of their siblings. Hidden away in the trees stood archers, bows primed for attack. Will secreted himself in his own small copse of trees and nocked an arrow to his bow. From his position he could see and not be seen - a Ranger's best tactic.

The area that the three cabins - or rather, Will - had chosen to combat the Temujai on had been carefully picked. It wasn't on flat, open ground that would allow the Temujai to swoop down indiscriminately and attack however they chose. Nor was it in the middle of the forest, as that would hinder the campers, as inexperienced as they were with fighting in the woods. What Will had decided on was a mixture of the two: open enough to allow for easy movement on the ground, with sparse foliage here and there to afford for cover. It was that foliage that even now protected him and his archers.

A Temujai swooped down overhead. Will sent an arrow into its shoulder, knocking it out of the sky and onto the ground. Two campers dispatched it quickly.

When Will had given his plan, he hadn't had time for details - all he knew was that if they charged in there with no plan, they'd have no hope of survival. So he'd fleshed out the bare bones of a stratagem as quickly as he could.

The archers were probably the most important part of his plan. Equipped with sonic arrows capable of temporarily stunning and disrupting the flight of the Temujai, the archers were their best offense. 

However, though their offensive capabilities were great, their defensive capabilities weren't. Even Rangers had a hard time dealing with oncoming Temujai due to the monsters' sheer speed. The loading time of beginner to intermediate archers was far too slow to combat a Tem'uj once it had sighted them. In addition, unlike Rangers, most archers weren't at all skilled in melee fighting. This meant archers were basically sitting ducks once their position was given away. 

Because of this Will had ordered that each archer have a shieldsmen beside them to protect them should this happen. He'd hesitated to order it initially, not wanting to take away so much manpower from the main attack force, but eventually he'd had to give the command. The archers were simply too vulnerable.

Tearing him from his thoughts, another Tem'uj flew across Will's line of sight. Before he could react, a half-dozen arrows found their mark in it. It hurtled to the ground with a shriek. Alyss, who'd been nearby, beheaded it in one blow.

Since Will could hardly expect a non-Ranger to make killing shots on creatures as tough as the Temujai (especially seeing as hecouldn't even do it himself), he'd had to set in place a second line of offense. That line was the warriors. Any camper who couldn't shoot a bow and wasn't accustomed to the defensive maneuvers a shieldsman needed was put in that line. The warriors' duty was to finish off any grounded Temujai.

That was the last thing he'd had time to plan. Taking the whole of it into consideration, Will knew it wasn't bad. It certainly wasn't as good a plan as Halt could've come up with, but it was decent. It was also the best these campers were going to get.

But even as he drew his bow and sighted a Temujai, he found himself thinking,  _maybe if Halt sees what I did, he'll..._

He shook off the thought angrily, aimed, and fired. The arrow sank dead into the chest of the Temujai. Will watched as it flailed wildly and hit the ground with a thud. The next instant, one of the warrior demigods was upon it. It was dust seconds later.

The camper straightened, lifting his blade in a defensive position as he scanned the sky for more opposition. The sheer mass of him identified him as a son of Hephaestus, not a camper of one of the three cabins which Will had originally led.

Another reason Will had picked this location was its proximity to other campers. Camp Half-Blood's defense was, as a whole, extremely unorganized. Each cabin seemed to act independently of the next, whereas the Temujai acted in unison. As the three cabins had started towards the battle, Will had noticed a singular group of demigods rapidly being overwhelmed by the Temujai. His campers had run in just in time to reinforce the failing line. 

Will had watched as most of them fell back, many carrying their injured comrades to safety. Around a half-dozen stayed. Alyss had approached them and spoken to them for a few moments, giving the basic outline of the plan. Now the few who stayed, like that Hephaestus camper, were engaged in battle.

Another dark shadow flitted by Will's periphery. He had an arrow aimed towards the Tem'uj in a moment; the next, he let it fly. He winced even as it flew, knowing it had been a bad shot.

It hit the monster in the stomach. The creature shrieked and instinctively turned in Will's direction. Its soulless, blackened eyes scanned the foliage surrounding him. 

Will's lips thinned. If his next shot weren't fatal, he might get a lot closer to those deadly claws than he wanted to be. He was a good archer but a terrible fighter. He hated fighting melee combat. However, if that Tem'uj found him he'd have no other choice. Now he had to make a decision: should he shoot and risk missing once more, or should he wait for it to lose interest?

Will's problem was solved when a strange-looking arrow suddenly whizzed through the air. It exploded on contact with the monster, releasing a horrendous shrieking noise. Will clapped his hands over his ears. 

The Tem'uj screeched in pain and fell to the ground. Mikaela was beside it immediately. She stabbed it through the heart. The sudden silence made Will's ears ring.

The apprentice cast a glance around the battlefield. In the distance he could hear the sounds of fighting: Temujai shrieks, battle-cries, clashes of steel. Around him he saw dozens of airborne monsters, some beginning to group up now that there were archers in the picture. 

There were just so many, he thought despairingly. Three campers were a match for one Tem'uj. As things stood now there were practically more Temujai than campers. Even the archers, with their sonic arrows designed to take the Temujai out of the sky, weren't able to make headway against so many. The warriors, out in the open like they were, were easy pickings for the flying monsters. Will saw a monster swoop down and pick up an Ares camper with its claws, flinging him into the air. He crashed into a tree a dozen yards away. 

He didn't get up.

Another Tem'uj flashed by. Will's arrow sank into its chest and it began to fall through the air. He'd sent another one into its shoulder before it hit the ground. With a grim look of satisfaction, he watched as it slowly turned to dust.

He had another arrow nocked to his bow the next instant, eyes already scanning around for a new target. Dismayed, he found that the Temujai were forming up ranks in the air. They must've realized what their opponents were doing - picking them off one by one, thinning their ranks slowly. Temujai were extraordinarily tough. Sometimes even two or three hits wasn't enough to kill them. In a group, they'd be able to protect any of their brethren who'd gotten hurt and prevent them from getting shot a second time. 

Will cursed under his breath, searching for a way to separate them once more. He'd told the archers only to fire their sonic arrows on solo Temujai. Firing on a group like that might send them all falling to the ground, but even stunned and grounded Temujai were deadly in groups. No, what he needed was a way to divide them up enough that they wouldn't be able to go to each other's aid.

But how? There was no way to set traps in the sky, nor was there time to set them up if there were. Revealing himself would only ensure that the entire group descended upon him simultaneously. That was a sure way to get himself killed. He didn't even have a way to throw them away from him...

Wait.

Will gazed down at his hands. As the son of Apollo he had several different powers. He could heal. He could curse. He could control light. He'd always assumed it was just light - not the kind of thing that could shove someone backwards. It was like energy - you could zap someone with it and kill them, not move them. But then he remembered watching Halt use his darkness powers. He'd used it as a shield, as a weapon, as a blind shoving force. Could Will use light that same way?

He bit his lip and gazed around the battlefield. The Temujai were unstoppable now that they were together. The campers had rallied protectively into a phalanx but the Temujai were picking them off one by one. The archers were still shooting, but their arrows were intermittent and poorly aimed.

If something didn't happen soon, he realized, none of them were making it out of there alive. 

Will slung his bow across his back and leaped up into a nearby tree. He scaled it rapidly. Once he was up at the top, he glanced down at his hands again, hesitating. He had no idea if he could actually do this. Halt's powers were very different from his own, after all - practically opposite. What's to say he could actually do this? Even if his powers could be used in this way, what's to say he was strong enough to do it? 

The Temujai sent two campers flying backwards. They crumpled into bleeding, motionless heaps. 

Will set his jaw. He had no idea if this were going to work. But he had to try.

Cupping his hands around his mouth, he yelled, "Hey! All you ugly things over there! Listen up!"

His allies glanced up at him in confusion. He ignored them.

"I'm talking to you! Yeah! You big, black ugly things! You look like moldy curtains!"

At first, none of the monsters responded. But Will repeated what he'd said, louder, throwing in a couple more insults. A few monsters glanced over, looking almost confused. Will kept yelling, waving his arms, shouting out insults, until finally he'd gotten the attention of the entire group.

"Yeah, that's right! I think your leader's a big pile of horse manure! And guess what? You're just like them! Wanna know why we're fighting you? It's because you smell  _terrible!"_

One of them hissed. It glanced around. In an instant the whole group came to an accord. As one, all thirty Temujai started straight for him.

Will swallowed. A bead of sweat dripped down his cheek. Somehow the fact that there were still thirty of them alive hadn't really hit him until just then.

"Will! What in Tartarus are you doing!?" 

That was Alyss's voice from yards away. She and several dozen campers were standing in formation, staring aghast at what they most likely thought was Will's impending death.

"Don't worry!" he called back, although he was worried as hell. "I have a plan! I need you to get ready to spread out on my signal!"

"What signal?" she yelled.

Will eyed the approaching Temujai. He turned and gave her his best impression of a confident smile. "You'll know it when you see it."

"Will, if you get yourself killed, I'll..." Alyss trailed off, frowning up at him.

"I won't," he promised. Then he added low enough she couldn't hear, "at least, I'll try not to."

He looked back up at the approaching monsters. They were mere seconds away now. He could make out the details of their clothes, their soulless eyes, the blood dripping from some of their claws. It made him want to throw up. It made him want to run. It made him wish he'd never come up with such a stupid plan.

Then again, it wasn't like he had a better option. At this point he only had two options: a bad idea - this - and a worse idea - doing nothing.

"Dad," he muttered as the distance between he and them ticked down, "I know you probably hate me, but please help me out. Even if it's not for me, at least help me save your other kids. Please?"

There was no sudden rush of energy, but he shrugged it off. He'd do this with or without Apollo's help.

The foremost Temujai swung its claws towards him.

Will yelled, "Now!"

He reached deep inside himself and dredged up every bit of power he possessed. He reached out his hands and let out an unarticulated roar. 

A brilliant light-wave burst from his fingertips, so powerful that Will's hair stood on end. Massive tendrils of energy swept through the air, sending the Temujai flying backwards, sideways, and hurtling into the ground. Some disintegrated instantly; others flew headlong into trees and rocks and bushes.

Will's allies stood in shocked silence, gaping up at him. Then they rallied and surged forward, surrounding the Temujai who'd crashed into the ground, slaughtering them mercilessly. Within seconds the Temujai's numbers were cut in half. 

For a moment, right as Will was about to turn off his powers, he felt something strange, something he swore he'd never felt before yet somehow felt so familiar. There was the roar of his power in his ears; the giddy feeling of his light powers in his stomach; but there was also something else. It felt infinitely dark and infinitely light all at once. It urged him forward, whispered  _use it._

Then the sensation faded.

Will had a few seconds to feel proud of his achievement. Then a sudden, sickening exhaustion overcame him and he lost his grip on the tree and tumbled heavily to the ground.

Then everything went black.

 

* * *

 

"Will? Will, can you hear me?"

Will mumbled something incoherent. Damn, his head was  _killing_ him. 

"Will," the voice was insistent now, "come on, you have to open your eyes."

"Urgh," he grunted out. His tongue felt like it was filled with lead. 

He felt hands on him, shaking him. He let his head loll around. He was too tired to care about how stupid he probably looked. 

More voices came now along with the faint sound of approaching footsteps. Strangely, he didn't hear Temujai screams or bow twangs or sword clashes anymore. Everything was oddly quiet.

It was that strangeness that forced Will's eyes open. He had a moment of disorientation where he couldn't tell which way was up and which was down. Then his vision came into focus and he realized he was on the ground, looking up at Alyss.

"What happened? Is it...over?"

Alyss looked at him a moment, probably debating what to tell him.

"You nearly killed thirty Temujai," she said at last. "We took care of the ones who didn't vaporize instantly. All the Temujai in our vicinity are dead now, but there are still other battles raging around the camp. As far as you're concerned, though, the battle's over. You aren't going to be fighting anymore."

Will took several excruciatingly long seconds to process that. Then his eyes widened and he forced himself up to sitting. He nearly cried aloud at the sudden motion - his stomach felt like each intestine had been intricately knotted around the next. 

"Halt," he managed, blinking away pained tears. "I need to make sure Halt and Gilan are okay."

Sudden anxiety bloomed through his chest, increasing the already painful sensation in his stomach. He had to make sure they were okay - had to make sure they hadn't left him. They had to be okay. They  _had_ to.

Alyss gave him a look. "You can barely sit. Even if they're still fighting, you aren't going to be of any help to them in your current condition."

Will opened his mouth to argue. He was cut off when one of his siblings ran up. She silently offered Will a canteen of nectar and a plastic bag filled with ambrosia, eyeing the boy with a look of awe the entire time. Will accepted the food gratefully, practically stuffing the ambrosia in his mouth. Even though he didn't want to admit it, he knew Alyss was right. He felt as though he'd had the worst case of heatstroke known to man. The only difference was that instead of just getting overheated, Will had been thrown straight into the sun.

Nevertheless, the thought that Gilan and Halt were still in the midst of battle was enough for him to force himself to standing. He swayed dangerously for a moment, then the ambrosia kicked in and his head cleared slightly. But only slightly. Now he just felt like he'd been thrown into a furnace instead of the sun.

Alyss put a hand on his shoulder, steadying him and stopping him both. "Will, stop. You can't stand; how do you think you can fight? At this rate you'll be more of a hindrance than a help. You need to trust that they'll be okay."

"They're positioned in the most dangerous part of the fight," Will argued. "Like Cassandra said, it's practically suicide. They aren't going to be able to hold the Temujai off forever."

"They're Rangers, Will. They're strong - probably the strongest demigods here. If anyone can hold off the Temujai, it's them."

"But what if no one can hold them off, not even Rangers? I wasn't there for them before. At least I can be with them now."

They locked eyes for a moment.

Finally, Alyss sighed. "I could try and stop you, but you'd probably hurt yourself even more in the process. I'll come with you."

"Let me come, too," a new voice said.

Will spun around.

Standing there was Horace Altman. He was covered in monster dust and bleeding from a half-dozen cuts, but his eyes were determined and steadfast.

"I saw what you did," Horace continued. "I'm not stupid - we would've died if you hadn't divided their ranks like you did. You saved our lives, Will."

Will blinked, surprised. He hadn't expected Horace to say something like that. "Um..."

"Let me repay you," the demigod said, pausing awkwardly. "I know we haven't always...I know I haven't always...Let me come with you now. I'll guard your back. I give my honor as a son of Ares."

"Yes, let him," Alyss said after Will continued to stare at Horace, dumbfounded. "He's one of the best swordsmen we have at camp, if not the best."

Will saw Horace flush red at her words, clearly embarrassed. The sight was disconcerting to the point where he wondered if he were hallucinating. First Horace was acting decently. Now he was embarrassed by someone's complimenting him? Had Horace really changed that much in the past months?

Apparently sensing Will's hesitation, Alyss tried another tact. "If you want to help Halt and Gilan, Horace is your best bet."

"I..." Will cast a glance at Horace. "...sure, I guess."

He looked once more at the other boy before deciding he'd think about that later. "Let's go."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: Anaklusmos, Percy's sword, is a xiphos. That basically translates to a double-edged, fairly long sword that's pretty comparable to medieval broadswords and longswords. The main difference, from what I can tell, is in the guard (the bit between the hilt and the blade) and the fact that xiphos swords taper from narrow to wide. Since I have never wielded either sword in my life, no idea what difference that could make in a fight. Maybe the Greeks just wanted a taper for the Aesthetic.

It wasn't hard to locate Halt and Gilan. Will simply looked for the spot where the fighting was the thickest - Peleus's tree, right on the border. 

Will, Alyss, and Horace sprinted over there as soon as it was safe to go. There were so many Temujai there that the sky was peppered with black. Will viewed the scene with rapidly rising dread, and even as he ran he couldn't help but wonder how the two Rangers were still alive.

But the thought, even the mere possibility, that they might not be, was so utterly terrifying that Will buried it six feet down and inside a Stygian iron coffin. 

"They're alive," he muttered through his panting, gasping breaths. "They have to be."

Alyss cast him a sympathetic look that he pretended not to see. "Of course they are," she promised.

They were several hundred yards away from the tree when they stopped to take stock of the situation. Halt and Gilan were nowhere to be seen, but scattered bands of campers fought back-to-back against insurmountable odds. Peleus himself fought fiercely, killing Temujai with a mighty sweep of a tail or a gout of flame. Will gazed upon the mess and cursed the fact he hadn't brought more campers with him. There was no way the three of them could fight this many Temujai.

Will exchanged grim glances with Alyss and Horace.

Even still, they had to try.

"Alyss, you need to get help," Will said. "Anyone, anywhere, we need as many people as possible. Quickly."

Alyss nodded, turned, and left. He knew she didn't like leaving the two of them alone, but she was pragmatic enough to recognize the need for more fighters. Will turned to Horace.

"Well," he said. "I guess we need to help as best we can."

Horace nodded, face solemn and deadly serious. One hand lay on the hilt of his sword. Will eyed it a moment - it wasn't one of the standard-issue Greek  _xiphos_ swords, but a longer, straight-edged weapon without the customary taper and with a cross-guard. Will eventually identified it as a British long-sword. 

"What's the plan?" Horace asked, either not seeing Will's curious gaze or choosing to ignore it.

Will released a breath, gazed out at the melee. "Do you have any powers?"

"Not really. Ares kids are naturally good with weapons, but other than that we don't have anything. We're a lot like the Athena kids in that regard."

Since the thought of using any more of his own powers made Will nauseous, that meant they'd have to do this all physically. Great. Two exhausted, under-powered demigod kids against an army of flying monsters. 

He considered sitting back and waiting for reinforcements, but the thought of Halt and Gilan out there, possibly hurt, made him discard the idea instantly. No, they had to do something. 

"We need to find Halt," he said before he really knew what he was saying. He winced inwardly, before quickly justifying himself. "He and Gilan are the two strongest people here, so where they are is the most defensible position." 

If Horace had any suspicions as to the real reason Will wanted to find them, he kept them to himself. He just nodded. "Let's get going, then."

The two of them broke into a run across the battlefield. Will led, moving nimbly from cover to cover in order to lessen the chance of being spotted by a Temujai. Horace followed close on his heels, about as fast but far clumsier. 

They ran for what felt like far too long, in circles that gradually widened and widened until Will could barely see the tree anymore. As the minutes ticked by, fear began to crawl up his throat. They'd said they would be at the tree with Peleus. They'd said they'd defend the camp's border. Where were they? 

Will stopped for a moment, hands on his knees to catch his breath. Horace stopped with him. After a moment Will straightened and surveyed his surroundings.

They were at the bottom of the hill now, faint sounds of the fight going on around the tree still audible. The ground was strewn with dust and the trophy remains of the Temujai - a blackened claw here, a fanged tooth there. The bodies were few and far between, something Will was profusely thankful for. But then he saw two, lying side by side, and for a moment he was petrified. There was a bow beside one of the bodies, an arrow clutched in its hand, and-

Will stopped himself, turned away, and kept running. The bow was a recurve, and the arrow was brown, not Halt's black or Gilan's dark green. Both of the bodies were clothed in brilliant orange. As horrible as the sight of any bodies were, at least Will didn't know the people they'd once been. And in any case, those weren't the first bodies he'd seen. Not that it made much of a difference, really.

It didn't really get easier with time. The horror of looking at the corpse of someone who'd once been a living, breathing, talking being was never easy. The thought that it could be Will next, if he didn't dodge fast enough, if he turned his back too soon, was even harder.

But Will kept running and Horace kept with him. 

Then suddenly a Temujai screeched above them and before the two boys could react, a black arrow hit it in the heart and shot it out of the sky. 

Even as it fell, two more arrows hurtled towards it, one black and one green. The monster gave a shriek as they hit home, thrashing wildly in the sky as it began to turn to dust. It never even hit the ground, becoming nothing before it even came close.

Horace and Will stopped and exchanged glances. "Halt," they said at the same time.

They found the two Rangers in seconds, Will having judged the approximate location the arrows had come from and running towards it.

Halt and Gilan were secreted inside a tangle of woods just inside the camp's border, several hundred yards away from Peleus's tree. There was no evidence of anybody else out there; just two Rangers systematically thinning the ranks of the Temujai. Will and Horace slipped through the underbrush towards them as stealthily as they could, not wanting to give their position away to the Temujai.

Unfortunately, Horace's version of stealth was not quite the same as Will's. Even as they broke through to the clearing where Halt and Gilan were situated, the two Rangers were watching them with disapproving and exasperated glances.

"You call  _that_ unseen movement, Will?" Gilan said from his perch up in a tree. He was, Will saw with relief, uninjured. "I saw you coming from practically a mile away."

Will opened his mouth to respond, but Halt cut in.

"Will, why are you here?" 

The apprentice blinked, taken aback at his mentor's harsh tone and gaze. "I thought I could-"

"You're supposed to be helping the defense of Camp Half-Blood, not recklessly leaving your post and searching for us. Heaven's sake, Will, you were supposed to stay back where it's safe."

Safe? Halt had been trying to protect him?

"I can fight on my own," Will said rebelliously, wishing Horace and Gilan weren't right there, listening. 

"Sir," Horace interrupted, swallowing when Halt's gaze suddenly switched to him, "Will and I just finished helping a group of campers take down a large part of the Temujai. Will took out several dozen of them himself. Once we were done with our Temujai, we wanted to come help. Someone else is bringing reinforcements as we speak."

Again, Will was a little taken aback by the way Horace spoke - praising Will's actions without saying anything about his own. Will had seen Horace take down quite a few monsters himself. 

"I wanted to make sure you were safe," Will said, "and I can take care of myself."

When it came down to it, Will thought, maybe Halt  _had_ been trying to protect him, but he wouldn't have tried in the first place if he didn't trust Will to protect himself. It was ~~agonizing~~ infuriating, that Halt didn't even trust in Will's strength.

"You're an apprentice," Halt said. He sounded patronizing. "Of course you can't take care of yourself."

Horace and Gilan exchanged glances - one awkward, one irritated. Gilan slipped out of his tree and made his way over to Horace, where they began to discuss something. Will guessed it was probably something to do with their strategy. 

"I killed dozens of those Temujai," Will said hotly. "I killed more of them than anyone else there! Probably more than  _yo_ _u've_ killed!"

"Using what?" Halt asked. Whereas Will's voice was rising in volume, his was lowering. "The powers I've commanded you not to use, I'd wager."

Will bristled. A part of him was telling him to stop, that Halt was right and that they were wasting time on a pointless argument when lives were in danger. The other part, the part that had been abandoned time and time again, the part that had been betrayed and neglected and hurt, told him to keep going. So he did.

"So what if I did? I'm still here! You keep saying that my powers are volatile and unpredictable, but they've always worked for me! I think the only reason you're not letting me use them is because you think I'm gonna hurt someone else with them. You just don't  _trust_ me to use them!"

Halt stared at him for a long moment. Will realized that he'd gone too far, said too much. Then Halt said, deadly quiet, "For good reason, it seems."

An instant after the words left his mouth, something flashed across Halt's eyes, something like regret. But just like with Will, it was too late. 

Will took a step back and fought to keep his expression as blank as possible. Unfortunately, he couldn't quite keep back the tears prickling at his eyes. There was a vindictive voice in his head that whispered in a loop,  _told you so, told you so, told you so. Told you he hasn't forgiven you. Told you he doesn't trust you. Told you he doesn't want you._

"Fine," Will said. He did his best to copy Halt: drew his shoulders back, clenched his jaw, lowered his voice until you couldn't hear how it shook. "Fine. I...we have a battle to fight. It's- I get it. You don't trust me. You still haven't for- let's just...go."

"Will, that's not what I meant," Halt started softly, gently. "I-"

Will opened his mouth, about to cut him off with an angry retort, but Gilan interjected before he could. "We have half a score Temujai coming towards the tree. We need to get up there, fast."

The apprentice followed Gilan's gaze and barely fought back a gasp of horror. The tree was surrounded so completely by Temujai that it looked as if a tornado were covering it. Will could just barely make out the tiniest hint of flame from Peleus. There was no way that even the mighty dragon would be able to withstand that many enemies at once.

The four men exchanged a glance. With one accord, they broke cover and sprinted for the tree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Andddd here we go. One more chapter until this fic really starts to get going. Who's excited?


	6. Chapter 6

The first thing Will noticed were the sounds.

Battles were full of sounds. There was the clash of steel on steel, the triumphant cries of the victorious, and the pounding of hundreds of feet against the earth. Those were the sounds everyone associated with battle, the sounds Will had expected during his first fight.

But Will didn't notice those sounds as he ran towards Peleus's tree. No, all he heard were the horrifying shrieks of the Temujai, the pained groans of wounded or dying demigods, and the wet, sickening sounds of blackened claws slicing through flesh. The din of battle was too loud to hear anything quieter, but Will imagined what else he knew would be there anyway: harsh, ragged breathing, the splatter of blood against the ground, an occasional nauseating thud as a head or arm or body hit the ground.

As the four men crested the hill, Will nearly stopped in his tracks. Peleus was beset by half a dozen Temujai surrounding him like wingless hell-bats, their claws rending into his scales and ripping his wings. Dozens more hovered in the sky or darted around the clearing, engaging with a few scattered bands of demigods here and there. 

Gilan let out a curse that Will heartily agreed with. He, Horace, and Will had all paused in united horror. Even the full-fledged Ranger had no idea what to do. There were simply so many Temujai. Even if the whole camp were assembled here, the battle would be close. They had not even a quarter of the camp there, and most of them were badly injured already. Peleus was practically incapacitated. 

Up ahead there was a flash of movement. Will heard a single word in Ancient Greek, so dark and powerful he shuddered.

Two of the Temujai surrounding Peleus crumbled to dust. A dark figure came forward, stepping callously over the dust of the monsters. From his hand flew a bolt of darkness that severed a third neatly in two. Another bolt killed a fourth, another a fifth. The sixth caught a pitch-black knife in its throat and vanished into nothingness. A hand caught the knife as it fell and sheathed it neatly.

Will swallowed, fingers tightening around the hilt of his own knife. It was easy to forget how powerful Halt really was. His normal manner was so mild and unassuming people often mistook him for a back-country woodsman. It wasn't until they looked into his eyes that they began to question that assumption. And it wasn't until they saw him in battle that they began to wonder if he was a god himself, not merely the son of one.

Halt glanced back at them, the deep cowl of his hood blocking his expression from sight. "Get over here! We have to defend Peleus!"

The three of them started as though woken from a trance and ran towards the dragon. Will mentally berated himself for not having tried to help quicker - after all, Peleus was the chief defense of the entire camp. The tree he guarded held a magical artifact known as the Golden Fleece, which magic strengthened the magical boundaries of Camp Half-Blood and kept hostile entities from preying on the campers. It was because of that that the camp hadn't been destroyed; as disorganized as the campers were, it would've been easy for the Temujai to slip in and ransack buildings or even kill the Oracle.

Obviously realizing what they were doing, the Temujai swarmed down from the sky and flew at them. Will ducked, hands shooting up protectively. Gilan and Horace cut in smoothly with their longswords and managed to defend Will until they were in position around Peleus. Once they were in position, Will bravely attempted to fight, but the Temujai were relentless. 

Annoyed, Will realized that he wasn't going to be of much help here. Two knives did nothing to a flying enemy; the difference in reach was large enough to be laughable. And they were coming too fast for Will to even think about using his bow. 

He glanced around. Despite the ambrosia he'd eaten, the thought of using more of his powers was enough to make Will's stomach protest. But what else could he do?

He ducked a Temujai, parrying its claws with an instinctive swipe from his saxe knife. He made his decision.

Will sprinted away from his friends and towards the tree line. He narrowly dodged the myriad of Temujai who came after him and kept running until he was sure he'd lost them. Then he doubled back until he was nearly at the edge of the forest, found a good tree, and climbed it. Once at the top he slung his bow from his back and nocked an arrow. 

Given his skills, he knew he would've been useless at defending Peleus. He wasn't all that good with his knives. Sure, he was passable for a third year apprentice. But against a flying, eldritch monster spawned straight from Tartarus itself? Not even close. It was one thing to fight against humans, who at least had the decency to remain on the ground. It was another to fight against a creature with the ability to move six feet up into the air in an instant. Even Halt wasn't using his knives and had instead opted to use his godly powers.

Will sighted and released. A creature who'd been about to attack Horace fell out of the sky and onto a waiting sword. The camper's expression wrinkled in confusion, but he shrugged it off.

A couple of Temujai, however, noticed the shot. Their malevolent eyes darted in his direction. Something about their gaze made Will uneasy. He abruptly remembered how so many of them had been after him, enough that it'd been difficult to lose them in the forest. Yes, there were quite a lot of Temujai and yes, his defense of Peleus made him a prime target, but as far as he could see, Horace and Gilan hadn't been targeted in the same way.

He furrowed his brow in contemplation as he continued to pick off the outliers. His memories of what had happened right after his massive outburst of energy were fuzzy. He knew he'd killed quite a lot of Temujai, and that his allies had killed quite a lot of the remainder. But had they killed all of them? Was it possible for one of them to have lived and told its companions about what had happened?

It wasn't very becoming to be egotistical, Will knew. Halt had hammered thatthought into him repeatedly. But the way his enemies were treating him seemed different from his allies. It didn't seem a far leap to think part of it could be because they wanted to eliminate a threat. 

Will knew he wouldn't be able to do that same thing again anytime soon, but he doubted his enemies thought the same. Really, how much  _could_ the Temujai think? He'd never once heard them speak, but the way they fought spoke of some higher intelligence. Mere animals didn't form into ranks or locate their enemies based off a single arrow shot. He thanked the gods that his vantage point was hidden enough to still keep him relatively anonymous. Hopefully, he'd be able to stay put.

The battle raged on. The ground became sodden with dust and blood, the stench of which made Will's nose crinkle in disgust. He saw the beleaguered demigods falter and fall and bitterly wished he were better skilled so he could help more. 

Finally, reinforcements began to trickle in. Groups of five or so campers trekked through the woods to join their fellows, strengthening the weakened lines.

Even still, Will noted grimly, they were losing. They had already lost several campers. With numbers as low as theirs, even one less fighter was a blow, and Will counted at least a half-dozen bodies. For a moment he stared at them, wondering who they had been, offering up a silent prayer to those who would mourn them. Then he wrenched himself out of his reverie and returned to the fight.

Unfortunately, as arrow after arrow had flown through the air and sank into Temujai, his enemies had grown more and more aware. As one of his arrows sank into the heart of an already wounded monster and dusted it, a group of four suddenly turned mid-flight and started towards him.

Will paled and almost dropped his weapon. There was no way he could take down so many at once with his bow, and he wasn't sure if his body could take it if he killed them with his powers. He only had one option: flee and hope they couldn't catch him.

Will slung his bow over his shoulders and practically leaped out of his tree. He scanned the forest rapidly. More campers were moving through it, coming to reinforce him. Just as he began to move, he saw Alyss leading a group of thirty demigods. Their gazes locked.

"Will!" she cried. "You're safe!"

The four Temujai zeroed in on the noise and swooped down into the trees. One of them shrieked something - Will realized it was a summons only when another dozen Temujai flew to join them. Will saw them come and acted on instinct. He turned and bolted straight back into the clearing, darting through the chaos towards the only person he'd ever recognized as safe. 

"Halt!"

Halt looked up as a shaft of darkness collided with a monster. His eyes met with Will's desperate ones, and then flicked behind him - looking at the monsters about to tear him apart. 

He didn't hesitate. He spun to one side, saying something Will couldn't hear to the demigods fighting next to him, and then he turned and ran. 

Will kept running, kept sprinting towards him, hating himself even as his feet pounded the blood-soaked grass. He knew that Halt would most likely berate him for doing something so stupid later (no he wouldn't, the other part of him argued), maybe even put him on probation again (he cares about you, he wouldn't do that). Will was currently defenseless: his back to his enemies, his weapons sheathed. It had been a terrible decision to decide to run back onto the battlefield. 

But, no matter how much pain and resentment he had layered up against Halt, Halt was  _safe_ and safety was something Will wanted more than anything. 

But then the swirling, flitting Temujai suddenly stopped. It was eerie: their eyes rolled back into their heads, their heads tilted to one side as if they were listening to something. Then in complete unison they dove straight for Halt.

Will grabbed desperately for his knives, hacking at whatever he could. Despite how many the demigods had killed, there were still so many Temujai left. And every single one of them had focused upon Halt.

He heard the shouts of his allies as they came running to help as best they could, but he knew even the closest were too far away. Will stumbled back from the onslaught, still slashing at the Temujai but being buffeted backwards by the wind of their flight.

Will stared in mute horror as the black storm surrounded Halt so completely he could see nothing except tattered robes and black claws. The Temujai had completely forgotten him, shifting their focus entirely onto their new target.

He took a step forward, a hand coming up to shield his eyes from the dust swirling around on the breeze. His heart clenched and he felt emotions rising in his chest - fear, but not just fear. Blind panic gusted through him, along with anger and pain and...and something else, too. Something small and desperate, something that had broken at Halt's admission of mistrust. Something that wondered...

Will summoned his powers, ignoring the bone-deep ache, the gut feeling that told him to stop. He clenched his jaw and fists and leaped straight into the whirling blackness. 

And he wondered, as he let loose every ounce of power he had left, if this would be enough. If this would finally be enough to be forgiven.

Light spiraled around Will, a mini supernova of energy. He cried out in agony as the power ripped through him and dusted one, two, five Temujai. 

"Will!"

He forced his eyes open through the roaring in his head. He couldn't see anything except blinding white. His light was still pulsing, still blasting through the enemy. He realized he wasn't sure if he could stop it. 

"Will, stop!"

That was Halt's voice. Will had never heard him shout like that before. 

His light was flickering, trembling along with him. It wasn't dusting Temujai anymore, had only killed a few to start with. He'd made a mistake. 

Black fluttered around the edges of his light, making for Halt again. Will saw tattered garments, saw grimy hair silhouetted against the light and the decision he made was instinctive.

"No!"

Will channeled the last remnants of his light and blasted Halt backwards. 

As soon as he finished, the pain inside of his chest exploded. Will collapsed, scarcely hearing the hissing of the Temujai coming closer and closer. His vision had whited out and he felt something warm trickle from his nose. 

He heard the approaching sound of his allies and vainly struggled to rise. He knew he needed to get out of there, fast. He was dangerously close to passing out - dangerously close to dying. 

But then something sharp dug into his back and he screamed. For a split second he saw a myriad of memories flash before his eyes, and then he realized he was still alive. 

And then there was a swoop in his stomach and he realized he wasn't on the ground anymore.

Will let out an inarticulate, pained yell and struggled violently against the creature dragging him up into the sky. He tried once more to access his powers but the attempt was so painful he screamed again. 

There were voices down below - Gilan, Halt, Horace - and he heard an arrow whoosh above him and hit the Temujai holding him. It shrieked, but even as it faltered, two more took its place, one latching onto each arm. Again, Will struggled, but again it was in vain. He watched helplessly as the ground got steadily smaller. 

Below, Temujai once more beset Halt. Gilan and Horace and several other demigods had surrounded him, giving him time to aim the arrow he had aimed at Will's captors. He went to release-

And a Temujai tackled him, sending him sprawling, bow landing several yards away. 

Breathless seconds ticked by, until finally the monster dissipated and Halt scrambled to his feet, hands moving towards a bow that wasn't there. 

"Halt!" Will shouted, but his voice was lost in the wind.

The Temujai lifted him higher. 

Faintly, he heard Halt's voice. "Will! Stay alive! Don't give up! I'll find you wherever they take you!" 

"Halt," he said again, hoarsely, fighting back a sob. 

"I'll find you, Will!" 

And then the Temujai carried him farther and farther until Halt was a vanishing speck in the distance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And yes, those last few lines are intentionally similar to the last few lines of the Burning Bridge.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back? Yep, me after a several month delay. I've already got plans for the next two chapters and a lot of things are falling into place for the plot, so the next update should be out pretty soon!

Halt sat on the ground, staring numbly up at the sky in mute despair. The others had formed a circle around him, fending off the remaining Temujai until he could regain his feet. For that he was grateful. The Curse of Achilles rendered him nearly invulnerable, but if anyone could find his weak spot, it would be one of those cursed monsters. The back of his neck throbbed at the thought.

Finally he mustered the strength to pull himself to standing. The last Temujai disintegrated to dust before his eyes, one of Gilan's knives slitting its throat. The demigods who'd surrounded him - Horace, Gilan, and three campers he didn't know - turned to look at him. Once they saw he was up, the three who didn't know him wandered off with a nod of farewell and some frightened glances. Horace and Gilan just gazed bleakly at him.

Halt had no idea what to say to them, so he said nothing. In the sudden silence a dull ringing had beset his ears. It was the absence of battle that made you sense it most keenly: the absence of brave cries, of dying groans, of weapons clanging against each other. 

Similarly, it was Will's absence that made Halt realize how much he had lost.

He turned and walked three, four, five paces to retrieve his fallen longbow. He eyed it heavily as he picked it up, wishing things had gone differently - that he'd been able to keep hold of the bow, that the Temujai hadn't tackled him in the first place, that Will hadn't used his powers like he  _knew_ he was forbidden to. But they hadn't. 

He slung the bow over his shoulders and checked that he had both knives. He did. He was just about to suggest to Gilan they go and scavenge arrows from the field when he heard a cry from behind him.

"Will! Where's Will?"

It was...Alyss, Halt thought her name was. He vaguely remembered her from months ago when he'd first recruited Will as a Ranger. They had seemed to be fairly close back then. Halt thought he remembered her being one of the ones Ferris had blackmailed Will with.

When they'd ridden into Camp Half-Blood earlier, Halt had seen Will as he'd set eyes on her again. It had been an almost amusing scene even in the midst of the looming war. Will was besotted with her.

Now as he saw the fear and dread in her expression as she ran towards them, he knew the feeling must be mutual.

"Miss Alyss," he said gently, drawing her attention towards him. She saw his face and hers crumpled.

"Is he...?"

"He was taken by the Temujai. He was unharmed, and should remain that way."

Gilan's jaw tightened in Halt's periphery. Both Rangers knew the last part of that sentence was a lie. The Temujai had taken what they saw as a threat and a valuable target - better yet, once they got back to whoever was in charge of them and could recognize such things, a Ranger's apprentice. If the Temujai didn't hurt or kill him for what he'd done to them in this battle, they would certainly torture him for information. And Will, as brave as he might be, wasn't even seventeen. He stood no chance in an interrogation. And Halt, for all that he might grudge him otherwise, could not grudge him for that.

Alyss put a hand to her mouth. Her eyes watered and she blinked back tears.

"I...see," she said at last. Then she resolutely straightened, eyes hardening like flint. "Well, we must get to work then, mustn't we? We can hardly expect him to get back here by himself."

Halt gave her an appraising glance. She was a daughter of Athena, if he wasn't mistaken. Though he was used to her being soft-spoken and even-tempered, he wasn't surprised that she had a strategist's command in her as well. 

"That we cannot," Gilan broke in cheerily. "He trips himself up on the way out the door in the morning! If he tries to break out..."

He trailed off, a grim looking returning to his eyes. Suddenly no one wanted to speak.

Then Alyss put in, "He'd trip over his own cell's keys, of course. We'd better be there before that happens to him, or we might never get a chance to kill the Temujai ourselves - they'll die laughing, instead."

That produced a few small chuckles - mostly Horace and a few other scattered demigods. Gilan cast a grateful look at her. 

"We'd best get moving, then," Halt said, beginning to walk back to camp. "Miss Alyss, as leader of your cabin, if you wish to look after your siblings first, that would be understandable. We're going to make a report to the Ranger Commandant before informing Chiron of what happened."

There was a brief flash of hesitancy in her eyes, before she nodded. "Very well, Ranger. I'll tend to my siblings, but I want to join you in speaking to Chiron. Will is my friend, and I'm not the only one here who wants to get him back."

Halt remembered the two other campers who'd been included in Ferris's blackmail, and wondered if those were the ones Alyss mentioned. "Any assistance is welcome."

Alyss nodded again and moved to walk away, then paused. "By the way, you don't have to call me 'miss.' It's just Alyss."

"Then you can drop the 'Ranger,' as well," Halt returned, before the slightest hint of a smile flew across his face. "Call me Halt. It's what my friends do."

Alyss smiled. "I'll see you soon, Halt." 

Halt and Gilan bid similar farewells to her and Horace before they departed. They headed straight towards the fountain they remembered being right outside the Big House. The spray created a perpetual rainbow that made it easy to throw in a drachma and order, "Ranger Commandant Crowley."

Crowley's image bled through the water hollowly. He looked even more tired than he had the day before. Behind him ran a moving array of marble columns and bronze braziers. He was still on Olympus; they'd apparently caught him in the middle of walking somewhere. As soon as he saw their faces, he stopped. His lips tightened as though preparing himself for bad news.

"Halt," the man greeted. "You look worse for the wear."

"I suppose I do," he responded. 

Crowley sighed. He said resignedly, "I know that look on your face. What happened?"

Halt allowed his shoulders to drop fractionally. He didn't want to admit what had happened. It was never easy to talk about these things. But, as a senior Ranger, such was his duty.

"You were right in expecting the Temujai to attack Camp Half-Blood. We barely got here before they did. It was a lot more than we'd been expecting, too. I'd say it must've been over a hundred."

Crowley's face turned grimmer. "Over a hundred? How many casualties on the camp's side?"

"We haven't made a count yet, but I don't think there's more than a few dozen dead or injured. Peleus made a fair dent in them by himself. Will also..." He paused.

"Halt, did something happen to Will?"

"I'm getting there," the man snapped. It took him a moment to go on. "Will used his powers in an unprecedented way that killed two dozen of them instantly. That, and the way he organized the campers' defense, significantly lowered the casualty count. But it also made him a target for the Temujai. They're more cognizant than we'd thought - they're able to form battle-lines and change their strategy intelligently. They might also have some form of hive-mind communication. After Will killed so many of them, they began to recognize him as a threat. So they...took him. He's gone. I was too late."

He bowed his head, a heavy, empty feeling rising up inside him. 

"Halt..." Crowley looked at him with all the pain and sympathy of a lifelong friend. He knew exactly how much Halt had lost and exactly how this loss weighed on him. "You did the best you could. There was nothing more you could've done."

Halt nodded. He appreciated his friend's faith in him, in being able to say that without even being there. "Once we talk to Chiron about what happened, we're going to track them down."

Crowley closed his eyes for a moment, looking like he did not want to say what he did next. "No."

A pause. 

"No?" 

The temperature plummeted. Halt, eyes dark and cold, met Crowley's gaze with a scowl.

But Crowley just sighed, long and tired. "We need you there, Halt. Camp Half-Blood just fended off an attack that could've devastated it, had you not been there. There's no telling when the next attack will come, and reinforcements won't arrive for another two days. If you leave, you'll be dooming hundreds of campers."

"Will killed more of them alone than Gilan and I combined did," Halt argued. "Getting him back would be the best way to ensure the camp's defense."

Crowley frowned. "You said it yourself, Will wasn't even supposed to use his powers like that in the first place. That's hardly an every day occurrence, and I don't think it's one you want him to repeat."

Halt remembered the terror in Will's eyes, the power cascading out of his control, and knew that it was not something he ever wanted to see again. 

"Come on, Halt. Will's resourceful. He's been through worse than this and made it out just fine. He'll be back here in no time." 

Halt opened his mouth to argue some more, to demand he be allowed to go, but reluctantly stopped. Crowley was right. Camp Half-Blood needed him. And he had never been one to put his own interests above the world's. Will was resilient, and he would no doubt either escape on his own or, failing that, be released once they put an end to the Temujai once and for all. 

That didn't mean he had to be happy about it, though.

"Fine," he said irritably. "Fine, we'll stay."

Crowley nodded, looking relieved. "I'll contact you later for the full report. Do whatever you see fit for repairs; I trust you to know what's necessary."

Halt nodded tersely, jaw clenched.

Crowley moved to walk away, then stopped. "And Halt? Don't blame yourself for that. That wasn't your fault."

Rather than respond, Halt swiped a hand through the mist, ending the conversation. He stood there for a moment, restrained fury in his eyes, then turned to Gilan.

Who was just as angry as he was. But at a different person. "What the Hades, Halt? We could be tracking Will down right now! You're just going to let Crowley order you around like that? He-"

 _"Is_ the Ranger Commandant," Halt cut in, deceptively mild. "And outranks me, if you hadn't noticed."

Gilan scoffed. "When has that ever mattered to you before? This is your  _apprentice,_ Halt! He's not even seventeen and he's probably being interrogated as we speak!"

"Will can handle it," Halt said, not fully believing it himself.

"Maybe, if he were trained! Rangers aren't even taught how to handle interrogations until fourth year, and Will's barely into his third. Come on, Halt - at least think of all the information they could be getting!"

Halt's lips tightened. He was forced to remember a time when Will had been giving information out, only willingly. What's to say this wasn't a repeat? Then he scolded himself. Will hadn't want to do that in the first place; he would hardly want to do it now.

"He's just an apprentice, a third year like you said. There isn't much he could give them that they'd want to know."

Gilan's eyes were dark with betrayal. "Will is your apprentice, yet you're acting like you don't give a damn. Have you  _still_ not forgiven him? Was trying to give up his own life for you  _again_ still not enough for you? When are you going to pull yourself together and stop grudging him for something he's tried to amend time and time again?"

"Enough," Halt snapped. "Crowley's already given his orders. What do you want me to do? I can't go against them, and Crowley would never change his mind."

"Then go to Apollo! Go to Zeus himself! I don't care, do  _something!_ Isn't Will worth that to you?"

Gilan spread his hands wide, eyes angry and pleading all at once. For a moment he saw Halt's face darken in pain and thought he'd won. But Halt just sighed.

"Will is worth a lot, Gilan. But I can't put him over the entire country. The Temujai, if unchecked, could deal untold damage to America. The Rangers need to take them down."

"We have 88 other Rangers, not even including their apprentices. You'd think that would be enough."

Halt just looked away. He could only argue so much when he wanted to do the same thing as Gilan. But he was Apollo's most trusted Ranger, and he couldn't take his duty lightly. He'd had the weight of responsibility on him for so long that he knew what would happen if he were to take it off.

It was probably fortunate that Alyss chose that moment to come into view. She had changed back into her Camp Half-Blood t-shirt and jeans. She'd cleaned off the battle grime from her skin and tied her hair back into an elegant and ornate, but still functional, braid. 

As she came closer, she raised a hand in greeting and the three of them exchanged pleasantries. She scanned the two Rangers' faces carefully, almost worriedly, and Halt knew that she knew, or at least suspected, they'd been arguing. But she wisely said nothing, just walked with them into the Big House.

Chiron had fought in the battle as well so he was in his centaur form, dressed for battle with a quiver slung over his shoulders. They talked for a bit about the battle: Halt inquired about the casualty count, and Chiron told him there were two dead, three dozen injured. It was grim news that this war had already claimed the lives of two demigods, but they were all thankful it hadn't yet claimed more.

Then they got to the reason they had come. Chiron asked where Will was and Halt was forced to reply, grinding out the story once more. At its conclusion, Alyss gracefully broke in by asking permission to lead a quest to track him down and free him.

Halt had to admit he hadn't seen that coming. He exchanged a surprised look with Gilan. Knowing that there were people looking for Will - as comparably inept as they might be - would ease Halt's mind quite a bit. At least someone would be looking for his apprentice.

Chiron hesitated, then acquiesced. He didn't want to lose campers, but Alyss was surprisingly persuasive and, Halt thought dryly, would probably find her own way to help Will if Chiron didn't let her lead a quest. The centaur probably agreed with him.

"Do I need to consult the Oracle?" Alyss asked next. "It's customary before a quest, after all."

"No, my dear, that shouldn't be necessary. Gods willing, this will be quick. He should be back here in no time. It'd be ill manners to consult the Oracle on something like this, what with the Earth Mother's rising." His expression turned grim. "The Oracle has enough to worry about already; we won't give her more. So all you have left to do is select two people to go with you, and you can be off. Godspeed, my child."

Alyss smiled softly at him and pressed a kiss on his cheek. "Thanks, Chiron."

Then she turned to Gilan and Halt.

"I'd like to ask you to join me on my quest," she said formally. "I know the circumstances are odd, as you are older and higher in rank, but I'll really be leader in name only. I know how powerful Rangers are and I can't think of anyone I'd rather have aid me."

Halt's heart tightened in regret. He opened his mouth to speak, but Gilan beat him to it.

"Unfortunately we'll have to decline. Our Commandant" - here Gilan's tone took on a sharp, almost hostile edge - "has refused to let us leave the camp undefended. We have to stay here. Otherwise there's nothing that could keep us from joining you."

Alyss's eyes flashed with disappointment, but she nodded. "I understand. The camp's defense is very important, after all. There are two others I was thinking of asking. They're strong and well-trained. We'll get him back, I promise. Even if we have to go to the depths of Tartarus itself."

"I'm hoping you won't have to go that far," Halt said dryly, "But may the Fates be with you. Travel well."

She turned and was gone, and all Halt's hopes for Will's safety with her. If she couldn't free Will - if her quest failed...

Halt didn't know what he'd do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a review! I'd love to know your thoughts on how this story is progressing ❤


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at this, another update after only two days. Winter break is truly working wonders, isn't it?
> 
> I will say that I had to stop and reevaluate my characters' goals and motivations, so I might be changing some things from the previous chapters and in the chapters to come. I have a ton of different goals going on at once - which can work if I do it correctly. I just have to make sure I do it correctly. If I end up having to go back and edit some stuff, I'll make sure to tell y'all so you can reread them if you want. It wouldn't be anything major, just some little fixes here and there that make the characters more concrete and realistic.

Alyss walked with sure-footed purpose straight up to the Ares cabin. Under different circumstances, one or another of the Ares campers might've stopped to question her or prevent her from walking inside the cabin, but they'd all just fought a battle together. There was no need to reinforce rules like that, especially not with a head counselor.

The inside of the cabin was what you'd expect from the children of a war god. It was messy, various weapons and pieces of armor scattered around the bunks and floors. The walls had crude graffiti depicting various gory scenes along with the occasional sumo wrestler - the Ares kids' celebrities. Combat boots were flung all around, and the floor was dirty from campers who hadn't cleaned their boots properly before walking in.

As head counselor of the Athena cabin, Alyss had come there fairly frequently for the routine cabin check-ups the head counselors did. It didn't surprise her that the Ares cabin was normally this messy - they didn't get it that much cleaner for inspection. But Alyss hadn't come in here to critique their cleanliness. No, she'd come for a different reason, one urgent enough she had to walk in here herself.

One quick glance and she'd located her target. He was sitting on his bed, sword in one hand, whetstone in the other. It was an unusual sword: not the standard issue  _xiphos_ sword, but one European in make. A longsword, longer and thicker than the ones most campers used, with a gold hilt and a dragon carved on the pommel. It had no other ornamentation except for the strange letters carved onto the blade. They were from no script Alyss had ever seen before.

"Horace, I've a favor to ask of you."

The boy looked up. He had a guileless face, though hardened from years of combat. His frame was sturdy and muscled and his hands large and strong. He was the most powerful son of Ares they'd seen in years, if not decades. Just last year, he'd challenged the old head counselor, Pete Willis, to a duel and won it without even breaking a sweat. It was to his credit that the only reason he'd done it was that Pete had been bullying their younger siblings. 

Those two traits, his strength and his integrity, were why Alyss wanted him on her quest.

"What is it, Alyss?" He carefully laid his sword aside and stood, striding over to her. 

She motioned to the door. "Come with me. We'll talk somewhere private."

Horace looked a little suspicious, but followed her outside. Asking for a private conversation was a bit suspicious, Alyss admitted, but she'd seen firsthand how competitive the Ares cabin could be and she didn't think they'd take well to her asking Horace on a quest in front of them. She didn't have the time to mediate the potential fighting.

The two walked in silence for several minutes until they'd reached the lake. It was as deserted as she'd hoped it would be. She stopped and turned to Horace. He stopped too and regarded her with a serious expression, clearly waiting for her to speak.

"You know Will got taken by the Temujai."

It wasn't a question, but Horace nodded anyway. Alyss scanned his expression carefully. He didn't seem particularly upset - a little worried, maybe a little sad, but nothing that extreme. That was what she'd hoped she would see. The two boys had never really gotten along, so she wouldn't expect Horace to be distraught over Will's capture. That he still looked worried meant he'd truly decided to put their old feud behind and held no ill feelings towards Will.

That, she could work with. She decided to probe a little deeper, just to make sure.

"I know you didn't use to get along. You acted differently towards him today, though."

Horace nodded, flushing a little. "I was...kind of a jerk when we first met. I saw him as a weak little kid I could push around. But after he left and I saw what Pete was doing to the younger campers, I realized I'd tried to do the same thing and it wasn't right. So I want to make amends for it, if I can."

Alyss examined him for any signs of dishonesty. She found none - really, she wasn't sure if Horace was even capable of lying. He was the most forthright and honest person she knew. She nodded to herself. Horace was definitely a good choice for the quest, probably the best she could find. 

"Then will you do so by coming with me to find him?"

Horace's eyes widened in surprise. "Chiron let you lead a quest?"

"Yes. And there's no one I'd rather have on it than you."

"Really?" he asked skeptically. "I mean, the Ares and Athena cabins aren't exactly friendly."

The Ares and everybody else cabins weren't exactly friendly, Alyss thought dryly. 

"And anyway, what about Jenny and George? Don't they want to be on this quest? If you ask me, you'll only have room for one more."

Quests could only have three people on them. It was tradition. Any more or less and you were asking for a nice bout of misfortune. 

Alyss shook her head. "I love them both dearly, but they aren't fighters. George is a capable strategist if need be, but he has his head in a book all day. I've scarcely ever seen him fight. Jenny's a cook first and foremost, and the only weapon I've ever seen her use is her ladle. We can't beat a bunch of Temujai with soup and treatises. I need warriors, and you're one of the best we have."

Horace flushed at the praise, abashed. But he nodded. "I'll come. When are we leaving?"

His eyes slid to the late afternoon sun. It was nearing sunset, and nobody liked traveling in the dark. But at the same time, every second lost was another second farther away from Will. 

"As soon as I can get everything ready. And assuming Cassandra says she'll come."

"You're asking Cassandra?" Horace's eyes lit up.

Alyss stifled a snicker. "I was planning on it. If you have a problem with it, though..."

"No, no! Not at all! No problems! I don't, uh, have any problems."

Alyss brought a hand up to cover her mouth. "That's good to hear; wouldn't want any tension between quest members. Well, prepare for at least a week-long journey. We'll be taking horses, so prepare for that, too. If everything goes well, I expect to leave within the next hour. Be at the stables by sundown."

"Alright, will do." Horace turned and, with a wave, set off to his cabin. 

Alyss turned as well and started towards the Hecate cabin. Although she wasn't sure if Cassandra would be there - she was a lot harder to predict than Horace - at the very least, one of her siblings should know where she was.

The sun lowered overhead as she walked and Alyss sped up. She hated every moment's delay. There were simply too many unknowns. They knew practically nothing about the Temujai - not their motives, not their behavior, not even their method of communication. Although Halt had assured her Will would be unharmed, she could tell he didn't believe the words himself. The Temujai could very well be hurting Will right now. And that was completely ignoring the agony overusing his powers like that had probably put him in.

The door to Hecate's cabin was open and Alyss strode in without ceremony. Cassandra was there, making her bed. 

The Hecate cabin was a great deal cleaner than the Ares one. Various bits of magical debris littered the floors and walls, glowing with eldritch light. Alyss carefully stepped over several runes on the floor, unsure what they'd do if she stepped on them and unwilling to find out.

As Alyss approached, Cassandra looked up. She didn't look surprised to see the other girl there, though it was technically against the rules. The two girls were accustomed to breaking that particular rule when they wanted to talk to the other. "Alyss, what's up?"

The daughter of Athena came to a stop next to Cassandra, contemplating the situation. Finally she decided to be blunt about it. "I'm going on a quest to get Will back, and I need your help."

As a daughter of Hecate, Cassandra's control of the Mist would be invaluable in aiding Will's escape. She could trick almost anyone into seeing almost anything. She was still unpracticed, having come to camp only last year, but Chiron had confided to Alyss that she showed much promise. She was also one of Alyss's closest friends. Alyss trusted her completely. There was no one she'd rather have watch her back.

Again, Cassandra looked unsurprised. She tucked the covers of her bed in and placed her pillows on top. "Alright, I'll help."

"You will?" Alyss hadn't been expecting her to agree so quickly. Then she winced inwardly and was about to add something else, before Cassandra replied.

"I don't know him personally but he seems like a good guy. And no one deserves to have that done to them. Besides, you'd be unbearable if you couldn't do anything to save your precious boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend," Alyss said quickly, flustered. Then she added more calmly, "He _is_ a dear friend and I couldn't live with myself if I let him be hurt without doing anything to stop it."

Cassandra nodded, but she was still smirking. "A 'dear friend,' huh? I'll make sure to tell him that as soon as we see him."

"You wouldn't."

"Wouldn't I?" She winked. "But regardless, I'm coming. Are we leaving tonight?" 

"As soon as you and Horace can get ready."

"Horace is coming?"

It was almost the exact same reaction as Horace's. This time, Alyss didn't try to hide her laughter. "And you think  _I'm_ infatuated."

"I never said I wasn't," Cassandra responded cheerily, "But I also never said you were infatuated. Those were your own words. Seems a little suspect, if you ask me."

"Well, I didn't," Alyss said a little too hastily, "so I'll be going now. Meet us at the stables by sundown."

"Got it." Cassandra turned and started to pack.

Alyss walked back out the way she'd come, avoiding the runes just like before. She made a beeline straight for her cabin. Once inside she packed in an ordered but furious pace, throwing everything she could think of into her backpack - ambrosia, nectar, mortal food and drink, a change of clothes, a bag of drachmas.

She buckled on Karpalimos, the enchanted belt she'd taken as her prize after slaying the fire-breathing giant Cacus. It was an unassuming brown band with tarnished buckles, but it had become invaluable to Alyss. Karpalimos meant "swift" and that was exactly what it made her. It was enchanted to enhance the speed and agility of its wearer. Without it, Alyss would've been too slow to dodge many a death-blow.

She finished packing her backpack, zipped it up, and headed to the armory. She'd had one of the Hephaestus campers forge her a set of armor years ago. It was actually a pretty common thing for experienced campers to do; it eliminated the annoying hassle of trying to find a breastplate that fit properly whenever you were suiting up. Her armor wasn't anything special, just a breastplate, helmet, greaves, and a chain-link dress. The latter looked a little ridiculous over jeans, but Alyss would rather be alive and ridiculous than dead and respectable.

Horace was already there, suiting up with his own custom armor. Alyss took a moment to look it over.

It was just as unorthodox as his sword was. He had a triangular shield painted white with a green oak-leaf emblazoned on it, which was odd enough. His helmet had a visor, unlike Alyss's, and his breastplate was of a different design than the traditional Greek ones. He also had gauntlets and a chain-link dress like Alyss's, but something of the make seemed different.

"Is that English?" Alyss asked curiously.

Horace started almost guiltily. "Is what English?"

"Your armor. It's celestial bronze, but it's different from mine in design. It looks like what the old English knights used to use."

"Oh...yes. It's a tribute to my king."

His king? Horace was American as far as Alyss knew. And even if he were English, England was ruled by a queen, not a king. What king could Horace possibly be talking about? But when Alyss went to ask, she saw Horace's expression shutter off and she stopped. She wouldn't be getting anything else out of him, and it would be impolite to push.

Alyss strode in towards her armor. They finished suiting up in silence broken only by a few casual remarks here and there. She briefly wondered where Cassandra was, but decided not to worry about it. She'd probably already retrieved her armor.

Once they were done, they walked down to the stables together. Horace had on a huge backpack that looked comical on top of his armor, but Alyss doubted she looked much better.

Cassandra was standing outside the stables, a similar backpack on her back but wearing nothing except her Camp Half-Blood shirt and jeans. Alyss and Horace came to a halt and stared at her for a moment.

"Why aren't you wearing any armor?" Alyss asked. "It's going to be dangerous."

Cassandra shrugged. She didn't have many weapons either, Alyss noticed - just a knife and a...sling? "I'm not the best fighter. I'm leaving that to you two. My strength comes from my ability to manipulate the Mist. If I do it right, I won't need to defend myself."

"People make mistakes, though," Horace protested, looking worried.

"Which is why I have these." She motioned to her knife and sling. 

Alyss and Horace exchanged glances. They weren't happy about it, but neither did they think they could change her mind. 

Cassandra's gaze ran over Horace's armor, but instead of finding it strange like Alyss had, she seemed almost...comforted. A small smile graced her face, before she turned and entered the stables.

"We'd best get going. We're not going to have light for much longer."

The three strode into the stables, mounted up on their horses, and were off. Alyss cast one last glance at the camp as they left and hoped she'd see it again soon.

But something deep inside her whispered that that was not to be.

 

* * *

 

Will dreamed.

In it, he was in a place that he knew, with instant horrific certainty, was Tartarus. 

Jagged rocks, sharp as broken glass, cut into his bare feet mercilessly. They merged together, almost like skin, and formed the cliff on which he stood. Past the cliff ran what his disbelieving eyes told him was a river of fire - the Phlegethon. Its dim, grey-red light cast a dull glare that burned his eyes and brought with it an oppressive, deathly heat. Low-hanging clouds like blood surrounded him, making it hard to see beyond a few yards.

The air smelled of sulfur and sorrow, filled with the promise of eternal torment. Will rubbed at his arms and brought away a hand smeared with blood. He was being eaten alive, he realized, not by insects or carrion birds or wolves, but by something else. He didn't want to think what it was.

"Soon," a soft, feminine voice whispered, coming from nowhere and everywhere at once. "Soon, Will No-Name, you will come to us - the perfect sacrifice, my servant's gift. Soon you will come, Will, and free us. A child of light, coming down to serve the darkness."

"Who- who are you?" Will asked.

A laugh. "Soon," the voice said again, the word a promise. 

Will woke up.

He woke up to unendurable agony, relentless waves of pain bearing down on him mercilessly. If his first overuse of power had felt like heatstroke, this felt like he was being burned up from the inside out. 

He screamed, both from pain and as a desperate plea for help. He thought he might've formed the word  _Halt._ He was burning, scorching up inside and he was helpless to stop it. Normally he could draw his hand back or step away, and the pain would subside. But this was all-encompassing, inescapable. The sheer terror that came with that knowledge was almost worse than the pain.

There were no words to describe it. There were some things that were better left unsaid, and this was one of them.

It raged on and on and on, until Will wondered if there was anything left to burn, until he wondered if it would ever  _stop._ But finally a rough hand forced something into his mouth and the pain began to subside. 

As the pain lessened, his awareness increased. He could sense others around him - the owner of the hand and several others, from the voices. They were just as rough as the hand, savage and unintelligible. But before Will could grasp the situation better, his consciousness collapsed and he knew nothing.

He dreamed again: images of Tartarus, that cruel, feminine voice whispering  _soon,_ and someone else, someone he'd never wanted to see again.

Then he woke up once more. The pain was gone, or mostly gone. He could still feel remnants of it, and his body felt weak and over-sensitive, but it was nothing compared to what it was before. He just lay there for awhile, content just to breathe without being in pain. 

Finally, however, he forced himself to move. He opened his eyes first-

Nothing.

It took a moment for that to register. Nothing? How could he be seeing nothing? Had...had the fire made him blind?

 _Think, Will,_ he commanded himself.  _Where are you?_

He tried to move his hands and found he could not. His legs, and he could not either. 

So he couldn't see and he couldn't move. There was fear with that knowledge, but Will pushed it down. Maybe the fire had made him blind, but he should at least be able to move. So he tried to move his hands again, harder this time, and felt the fetters binding them cut into his flesh. When he moved his legs again, he felt the same thing.

He was bound, then. Not paralyzed. That was a relief. Will let out a long breath.

He couldn't see, but that wasn't his only sense. When he focused he could smell something rancid and awful like rotting sewage. It was hard to smell anything besides that, but he managed to make out underneath it something damp, like mold. Was he in some sort of sewer?

There were also sounds, sounds that seemed to be coming from behind a closed door several yards away. He recognized the same rough, savage voices he'd heard during his period of semi-consciousness. They didn't seem pleased, but they weren't arguing either. Will guessed that those were his captors.

Hang on, captors? The last thing he remembered was the Temujai grabbing him and flying off. He guessed he'd fallen unconscious during the flight. But, assuming he was still held by the same creatures, did that mean the Temujai could speak?

Just as he was thinking that, he heard a door click open and the voices begin to approach him. He didn't hear footsteps, which he thought was odd, then he remembered that he'd never actually seen the Temujai walk. He felt a sudden thrill of fear at the thought. These monsters were extraordinarily powerful and they'd taken him prisoner. He was at their mercy.

A hand, or something resembling one, suddenly descended on Will. He cried out in alarm but his captor refused to desist and ripped something off of him. A blindfold.

Light suddenly poured in. Will fought back another cry, this one of pain as the light seared his pupils. He blinked rapidly, trying to adjust to the sudden influx of light.

"He's awake," a rough voice said next to him. It was strangely garbled as though bits and pieces of the sound were missing.

"Good. You know what to do, then." The second voice was like the first: just human enough to be recognizable, just inhuman enough to be unnerving. "Just be careful. You know he doesn't like it when we hurt his things too much."

The two creatures shared a chuckle, and then the door clicked shut. Will, vision sufficiently adjusted, turned his gaze to the Tem'uj still remaining.

He looked like every other Temujai Will had laid his eyes on. His body was shaped like a human's, except that he had no feet as far as Will could tell. His skin was black and reminded Will of obsidian: it was jagged, rough ends sticking out at seemingly random points. It seemed more like armor than skin. His hands ended not in fingers but in claws that were rough, black, and cruel. He wore a tattered, grimy Grecian tunic similar to the ones other Temujai wore.

But the most disturbing part was like his voice. Will had never noticed it before in the other Temujai, but now that he could look at one up close he realized that it was why they were so terrifying. It wasn't just that the Temujai weren't human. It was that they were  _no longer_ human. Because, looking at this one, Will was certain he'd once been human.

It was the scar slicing through the obsidian skin, a scar that Will knew could not have been made on skin that hard. He had a mark almost like an X on his forehead. It could only have been made by an arrow, and only by an arrow that had pierced him through. Somehow Will knew that that was the wound that had killed him, when he'd been human.

It was his eyes, too. Will had looked into many monsters' eyes, and none had horrified him like this one's. They were human, but just inhuman enough to be dreadful. The pupils were deformed, smoky tendrils like shadows dripping into the iris. But there was still something human and desperately suffering in them.

"I am horrifying, am I not?"

The creature laughed, cruel and demonic. "I was once a human, like you seem to have suspected. In my past life I was judged worthy of the Fields of Punishment. One day while driven by the hellhounds, I slipped and fell into Tartarus. There I was torn apart and remade into this. I was tasked with the destruction of your world, to watch it burn in front of me."

He tilted his head, grinning at Will. "But that's not why I came in here. You want to know why?"

Will just stared, eyes wide.

"You're going to become just like us!" The creature descended into a fit of insane laughter.

Will felt like he was going to throw up. "I'll never be like you!"

"That's what they all say!" the Tem'uj chortled again, and Will heard in it the dying shriek of the dozens of Temujai he'd killed. "You can fight it all you like, but my lord has his eyes on you now. The Earth Mother only needs your blood; my lord will get the rest. What a fine Temujai you'll make, once he's done with you!"

Will reached for his powers, but a bolt like lightning seared through his senses and he gave a cry. The Tem'uj leered at him.

"Thought to access your powers, did you? You thought that after killing dozens of our brothers, we'd let you try again? No, we have you exactly where we want you. You're alone and powerless."

Will fought to keep his voice from shaking. "What do you want from me?"

"Lots of things." The Tem'uj laughed again. "Your blood. Your information. Your hopelessness, your fear, your suffering. And eventually, your loyalty."

He tried not to shudder. "I will never give you my loyalty. I've sworn it to Apollo and his Rangers Corps, and it's not going anywhere."

"Oh? That's not what  _he_ says."

"Who is he?" Will asked, suddenly urgent. "Who's your lord? What's his name?"

But the Tem'uj only laughed and stood up. "You'll see soon."

Then he turned and was gone, leaving his seeds of terror firmly planted in Will's heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here's to the end of 2018! Hoping all of you guys have a wonderful 2019!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Although I'm not sure if these qualify as trigger warnings, I'm going to say something just in case. There will be some physical abuse/torture in this chapter - nothing drastic, but if that makes you squeamish, be careful. There is also some lowkey emotional manipulation that will be going on for the next few chapters.

The Tem'uj came again the next day.

At least, Will thought it was the next day. His cell was devoid of any natural light and he hadn't seen outside since whenever the Temujai had first taken him. His sleep had been disturbed with premonitions of danger and voices familiar and unfamiliar warning him of what was to come. 

Will had had hours to examine his cell before he'd fallen into a fitful doze. The cell was old, damp, and grimy. He'd discovered that the stench of sewage he'd smelled yesterday came from the waste bucket a few feet away from him. Apparently the Temujai didn't have any more modern bathroom accommodations. Behind that were iron bars that stretched across the front of his cell, with a lock to keep him from getting out.

The Tem'uj strode in, unlocking Will's cell and placing a tray on the ground next to the boy. It had a glass of water and a plate of food with a hunk of bread and several slices of cheese on it. Will eyed it suspiciously.

The monster snorted. "It's not poisoned. If we wanted to hurt you, we'd do it ourselves."

He set the glass and plate down on the floor before reaching to unbind Will's hands. Will gazed up at him in confusion. Hadn't he just said Will was dangerous last night? 

The Tem'uj apparently read that look, too. "What we've done to bind your powers is much harder to undo than these shackles. Without your precious gift from Apollo, you don't stand a chance against us."

Although that was true, Will thought grumpily, he didn't have to say it that bluntly. Then he registered the bitter note that had entered the monster's voice upon saying  _Apollo._ Did the Tem'uj have a grudge against his dad?

Will took up the plate and stared at the food once more. It was surprisingly fresh-looking. The bread did look a little odd, but he guessed it was rye or something instead of wheat. He hesitated for another moment before admitting he had to agree with the monster. If they wanted to hurt him, they'd already have done so. They seemed to need him alive for something, so it made sense that they'd feed him. He took up the food and started eating.

Meanwhile, the Tem'uj sat back on the floor and watched him with an unsettling gaze. Finally he spoke. "You seem very calm for someone whose friends have abandoned him."

Will stiffened. He'd told himself last night not to let anything his captors say get under his skin, so he responded, "They haven't abandoned me."

"No? It's been a week already and there's no sign of their even looking for you."

A week? Will's heart stuttered in his chest. How could they not have come after him in a  _week?_

Then he regained himself. His captors' goal was to hurt him and make him suffer. He couldn't trust anything they said. Still, his voice wasn't as confident as he would've liked when he said, "It hasn't been a week."

"And what makes you so sure of that? You can't deny you've been unconscious for a good while. How do you know it hasn't been days?"

Will's lips pursed. He didn't know. He had no way of finding out, either. "I just do. My friends are coming for me, and it has  _not_ been a week."

The Tem'uj laughed, an unnerving sound like rattling bones. "Suit yourself. I can't imagine how you could think that the mentor who hasn't even forgiven you could be on his way to rescue you, but, to each their own."

"How do you know about that?" Will demanded, heart quickening.

"We Temujai have many ways of knowing many things. We know exactly what you did to the Ranger Corps last year. We know exactly how many deaths were your fault. And we know that, because of that, no one will ever come and find you. You are ours now, no matter how many times you deny it."

Fear closed in on him. How could he deny what he'd always believed deep down? That no one had forgiven him, that no matter how hard he tried, it would never be enough?

But his silence would be taken as agreement, and that was something Will would not allow. "You're wrong. Even if H-Halt doesn't come, there are others. And I can get out by myself." 

He was planning on it, actually. He wouldn't just sit there idly. He wasn't a Ranger's apprentice for nothing, after all. But the Tem'uj ignored that last part.

"What others? Gilan? You betrayed him just as harshly. He has even less reason to come than Halt;  _he's_ not under any obligations. Or perhaps you think your precious Alyss will come?" The monster gave a mocking noise. "Youforgot about her for months! You think she'll come and save you? Grow up."

"Jenny and G-" he started weakly, unconvincingly. He was cut off.

"Ah, your friends you betrayed the Rangers for. They must be proud, knowing that's the kind of person they befriended. A traitor and a coward and a weakling."

"I am  _not_ a-"

"A traitor? You betrayed the people who brought you in and gave you a home. A coward? You were too afraid to tell anyone about your betrayal until it was too late. A weakling?" The Tem'uj laughed. "You're right here, in chains."

"You're wrong." But Will's words held less conviction than he would've wished.

"You'll see how right I am very soon." The monster collected the empty dishes and stood up. "I'll be back later. I hope you enjoy being alone, in the mean time."

He left, shutting the door with a last mocking laugh and leaving Will with cold dread pooling in his stomach.

He wished he could've been stronger. He wished he could've glared the Tem'uj straight in the eyes and given a scathing retort to every verbal blow he'd been dealt. He wished he would've been the one laughing at the end, leaving his defeated opponent behind instead of the other way around. But he hadn't. And now he was here to deal with the words he'd been forced to hear.

As much as Will wanted to deny everything the Tem'uj had said, he couldn't. Because it was true.He had betrayed the Rangers. He had lied. He had been a coward. The shame of it all bit into him like acid. How could anyone want to save him? How could anyone want to save someone so debased, so vile?

They couldn't. So no one had tried.

Even still, there was a part of his brain that denied it.  _Halt's coming,_ it said stubbornly. _You matter to him. He wouldn't leave you behind._

Wouldn't he?

Will didn't know.

So he curled up on the cold, damp floor and tried to sleep, to ignore the hollow pit in his chest.

It couldn't have been more than two hours later that the Tem'uj came back. This time he was empty-handed, but his black, misshapen eyes were cold, hard, and menacing. Will eyed the Tem'uj's black claws warily. The monster grinned at him, showing sharp fangs.

The first thing he did once he was inside the cell was bind Will's arms behind him again. Will attempted to struggle, but in vain: he got nothing except a dizzying blow to the head and his hands bound tighter.

"You still fight, even though you know it's pointless?"

"It's not pointless," Will retorted. "If no one comes to get me, I'll find a way out myself."

The creature's eyes gleamed. "And how do you expect to do that? You're bound and powerless. You can't even eat, except by my mercy."

Will remained silent.

"Well, my brothers and I have talked this over," the Tem'uj continued cheerfully, "and we agree I've been far too nice to you. It's time to get what we want. Information."

Will's jaw clenched. "Like hell am I giving you anything."

The monster tutted. "Bold of you to think you have a choice." 

He grabbed Will so quickly the apprentice couldn't even react. The next instant Will was sprawled against the opposing wall, his head throbbing from the impact. The Tem'uj towered over him menacingly. 

"You might think you can resist us. You know nothing.We are more powerful than you can imagine, Will No-Name, and we will get what we want."

"You're wrong!"

Claws dug into him, lifted him up so his feet dangled off the ground. "Say that again."

Will swallowed. He had a bad feeling what would happen to him if he did. "You're wrong."

This time as he crashed to the ground a fist followed, so powerful that he felt something in his torso crack. He cried out in pain.

"I can do this all day, and all night, and all the next day as well. Even if I were to get tired, I need but ask and one of my brothers would relieve me. No matter how brave you are, no matter how strong you are, you are one and we are many. You are alone, Will No-Name. You have no aid, no back-up, no allies, and there are none coming."

"You're...wrong."

"Still you defy me?" the Tem'uj laughed. "Very well. Let's see how hard it is to break you."

There was another crack. Will curled up as best he could with his arms chained behind him. Despite himself, he felt fear swelling in his stomach. He knew he'd heard this and another Tem'uj discussing him; they'd said not to hurt him too badly, as their leader would be angry. That knowledge was what had given Will the strength to defy the Tem'uj. But surely having broken bones constituted 'too badly'? 

Thankfully, as though he'd suddenly recalled the exact conversation Will had been thinking of, the monster drew back. "But not today. My lord would be terribly displeased if I let you grow too injured...but, there are other ways. The Earth Mother needs your blood, and my lord needs your body. Neither require your mind."

With those unsettling words, the Tem'uj left.

Will clenched his jaw against the pain, silent tears streaking their way down his cheeks. He had to get out of there.

 

* * *

 

"Dammit!" cried Cassandra, throwing her backpack violently to the ground with a huff. "We aren't ever going to find him at this rate!"

Horace approached her cautiously, hands held out in placation. "We just need more time. We're getting closer."

"No we aren't! If anything, we're getting farther! We're in godsdamned  _Tennessee!"_

Alyss watched them silently. Although she wouldn't have expressed it as bluntly as Cassandra, the other girl was right. They had severely underestimated the difficulty of tracking airborne foes. It had now been a week since they'd set out and they'd accomplished nothing except for shredding Horace's shirt (Alyss blames it on the rogue band of Harpies they had encountered) and exhausting their food and water supply. 

"C'mon Alyss, you agree with me, don't you? You know we're getting nowhere." Cassandra had turned from Horace to look at Alyss pleadingly, although Alyss wasn't sure what she was pleading for. They most certainly weren't going to go back.

"We seemed to have lost the trail," Alyss agreed carefully, "but that's no reason to give up. He's depending on us to rescue him and I won't betray that trust."

"Do either of you remember where we last saw the trail?" Horace interjected before Cassandra could reply. "We should retrace our steps to there and start again."

Alyss had anticipated this difficulty from the start and had gotten an enchanted compass that, when a being's essence was added to it, would make a visible trail leading towards them. The problem was that all Temujai seemed to have the exact same essence. The three campers had gotten sidetracked at least a dozen times now, following trails that came up with the wrong monsters.

"Yesterday afternoon, I think," Cassandra said glumly. "That's when we found a fork in the trail and decided to go down this way."

Horace, for all his good will, groaned. "We have to go back that far?"

"Unfortunately, yes." Alyss stroked her horse's side. All three of their mounts looked exhausted from the week of traveling. The demigods had tried to save their horses as best they could, alternating walking and jogging alongside them every hour or so, but Alyss could tell they were reaching their limit. She looked up at the sky: it was late afternoon, and the sun was beginning to set.

"I don't think we can get much farther today," she decided and turned to her friends. "Our horses are exhausted and we aren't much better. We can't run ourselves to the ground before we even find Will."

Cassandra nodded. "Our supplies are running low, too. We need to get more."

"How do you propose we do that?" Horace asked. He gave a pointed look to the empty, forested hills surrounding them. They hadn't seen a mortal since noon that day, and that had only been a passing farmer. "We're not exactly near a grocery store."

Alyss fought back a sigh. She pulled out a map of Tennessee she'd gotten earlier and scanned it. "It looks like we're about thirty miles from Cottage Grove city, to the east of us. There'll probably be at least some kind of gas station or store on the way there."

Cassandra stifled a groan at the thought of thirty more miles. Though Alyss once again didn't express it, she had to agree. At the speed they were going that'd take two or three hours. But that was their fault for carelessly riding out into the Tennessee wilderness without stocking up on supplies first.

The three demigods swung up on their mounts with varying degrees of enthusiasm ranging from unenthusiastic to severely unenthusiastic. They touched their heels to their horses' sides and were off.

Several hours later, they crested a hill and gave a collective sigh of relief. There was a small town there - just a collection of homes with a few stores here and there, but it might as well have been an urban utopia for all Alyss cared.

The sun had set by the time they reached the grocery store. The three demigods dismounted a little ways away and walked in, leaving their horses to wait. Alyss didn't know if the Mist would hide them or if the mortals would see them as they were, but in either case it didn't matter much. They were just horses. 

They walked into the grocery store and set to picking out items. All three of them had packed a large stash of mortal money for exactly this kind of thing, so Alyss wasn't worried about being able to pay for food. She was worried, though, about what they might end up getting. She trusted Horace to be sensible, but Cassandra loved sugar to a worrying degree and Camp Half-Blood food was far too healthy for her eclectic tastes.

Alyss reached for a bag of trail mix, then glanced around surreptitiously. She felt like she was being watched. When she looked, though, she only saw Cassandra piling containers of mini muffins into Horace's arms and a bored-looking cashier. With a sigh in Cassandra's direction and a mental shrug she turned back to her task.

Five minutes later, the three piled their purchases on the cashier's counter. He eyed the mountain of stuff they were getting, looking utterly dead inside. Alyss felt a little bad for him. Cassandra had outdone herself in the sweets department: despite Horace's best efforts, she'd gotten no less than five containers of mini muffins, three king-sized Kit Kat bars, and a container of brownies. Alyss had no idea where the girl was planning on storing all of that. She decided she'd let Cassandra figure it out herself.

"Quite a lot of food you're getting," the cashier commented casually. He had an accent Alyss had trouble placing. He ran all of Cassandra's items through and started on Horace's. He had thankfully been much more prudent. His items consisted of jerky, protein bars, and dried fruit.

"We're on a, um, road trip," Horace said awkwardly. "We're stocking up for the next few days."

"Oh, really? We don't get a lot of travelers around these parts. Where to?"

Alyss examined the man closely. He looked normal enough: middle-aged with graying brown hair, a noticeable slouch, and the beginnings of a potbelly. But something about him seemed familiar, even dangerous.

"Just around," she said, cutting in before Horace could respond. "Sight-seeing and all that."

"Oh, I see. Well, that's a bit odd." He scanned Alyss's trail mix and started bagging their items.

The alarms in the back of Alyss's brain began to sound. She ever-so-casually rested her hands near her daggers.

The cashier followed the movement. His eyes locked onto the weapons and he smiled. Then he looked her in the eye. "After all, aren't you supposed to be looking for Will?"

Their reactions were instantaneous. Horace's hand flew to his sword as Alyss drew her daggers. Cassandra took a step back, hands raised to work magic. But the cashier just laughed.

"Relax. I'm not here to kill you. If I wanted that, you'd already be dead. No, I'm here to help." He paused. "Well, help is a subjective term. I'm here to...hm, what's a better way to put it? Guide you on your way."

Alyss stayed tense, but lowered her weapons slightly. Was this a god? She could sense it suddenly - an aura of power greater than any demigod she'd ever been near. The fact that she hadn't noticed it before meant he must've hidden it. And if he'd hidden this much of his aura...what was to say he didn't have more? 

"What do you mean  _guide?"_ Cassandra asked, her tone utterly irreverent. "If you're trying to get us to Will, you're doing a piss-poor job."

"Cassandra!" Alyss hissed warningly. "Show some respect."

"Yes,  _Cassandra,"_ the cashier said mockingly, "show some respect. I could obliterate you in an instant, if I chose."

The girl sneered and was about to say something before Horace stepped in front of her to prevent the situation from escalating further. "I'm sorry, my lord, she means no disrespect. We're just very worried about our friend. He was taken by the Temujai, you see, and we think they could be hurting him."

"Oh, they're most definitely hurting him," the man said nonchalantly. "And they'll continue to do so unless you stop them. I suggest you hurry. He's in Chicago right now. I think you can take it from there, yes?"

Although Alyss would never turn down information, the fact that he'd given it so willingly was suspicious. "You're helping us? Why?"

"Oh, no, not helping. We already went over that. If you go there you'll most certainly meet your doom. I guarantee it. But you might also free Will, so it's your choice." The man swung the plastic bags filled with their stuff over the counter. "That'll be $57.93."

Alyss fumbled through her backpack for the appropriate funds. While she was doing so, Horace asked, "What's your name? I mean, who are you, if it's okay to ask? Are you a god?"

The cashier seemed to consider that for a moment. "Am I a god? I think godhood's all a matter of perspective, really. Are you gods? To your parents, the idea is laughable. To mortals who've never seen a true god's power? That's a much more likely possibility. So, to you I might be considered a god. To the Sky Lord, Ouranos, or to the Earth Mother, I am but a child. And you are but infants."

Alyss swallowed. "You speak of- of them as if you know them."

He snorted. "Know them, my dear Alyss? When I was lost in the darkness, they gave me life. Know this: Gaia is more powerful than you can imagine, as am I and the legions I wield. And we won't stop until this world is turned to dust. If you choose not to save Will, you'll find that you've turned your back on more than just him. Think of it this way: would you rather doom yourselves, or doom the entire world?"

He took the bills held out in Alyss's suddenly shaking hand and passed over the bags. "Either way, it's your choice. I do hope you don't live to regret it."

He gave one last mocking grin. Then shadows wrapped around him and he disappeared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three chapters in a row! And this is my first post of the new year, which is cool. Any ideas as to who/what this new character is and what his motives are? I'd love to hear them!


	10. Chapter 10

The days began to blur.

There was no light, outside of the ever-burning torches by his cell, to tell Will what time it was. There was no set time Will's food was brought, either. And Will wasn't fool enough to ask the Tem'uj about it. First because he could lie; second because asking could send him off on another round of questions that were painful just to hear: "You know that they haven't forgiven you, don't you?" and "You know they're glad to be rid of you."

Will knew he had to get out of there. The Tem'uj couldn't hurt him much physically, but mentally, there were no bounds. He found sadistic joy in exposing all the things Will had tried his hardest to suppress for years: his mother's death, his adoptive father's abandonment, his foster father's alcoholism...the list ran on and on, and those were the things which bothered him the  _least._ The things he would only occasionally think about late at night: why did she die and leave me alone? Why did he abandon me? 

Already the Tem'uj was turning his mind against the Rangers. Will had sworn to himself he would never betray them or anyone ever again. But couldn't betrayal mean more than just killing them or giving over information? Couldn't it also mean resenting them, cursing them, hating them?

Because he was far closer to that than he had ever wanted to be, and he couldn't make it  _stop._

Every time the Tem'uj asked Will why they had abandonedhim, every time he asked why they hadn't forgiven him, every time he asked why they hated him...Will felt a surge of vitriol flood his chest. Even as he denied everything the Tem'uj said, he couldn't deny the resentment he felt deep down. He had to get out of there before it was too late. Before he became everything he'd sworn he would never be again.

So he began to plan. But as he did so, a question that had become achingly familiar rose to mind: what would Halt do? 

He hadn't wanted to think of that question at first, because surely it shouldn't matter. Halt would rescue him; Will wouldn't have to do anything. Then, as the days had passed by and the Tem'uj had slowly poisoned Will's mind, the name Halt had hurt to think. It still did. But no matter Will's feelings towards him, his ~~former~~ master was a skilled and pragmatic strategist and everything he would say was a good idea.

Will closed his eyes and thought. He imagined Halt - eyes disapproving, voice blank, because that was the only way Will saw him now - looking at him. What would he say? What would he do if he were in that situation?

"First," he imagined Halt saying, "You need to move without restraint. You can't run and you certainly can't fight without full use of your limbs."

Will's captor had taken his wrist shackles off permanently, which solved half the problem. The heavy chains around Will's legs prevented him from doing more than a slow, labored walk. It was possible, he thought, to trick the monster into cutting the chains off of him, but that would be dangerous. It might also be his only option.

"Next," came Halt's voice, "the lock on the cell door. What would I do about that?"

Pick it, probably. Gilan had taught Will that skill during Halt's absence. Will had already noticed that the door to the rest of the building was unlocked; if he could get his cell door unlocked, he'd be free. The utensils he was given at meal-times might do if he couldn't find anything else. He'd just have to secret them away when his captor wasn't looking. 

But Will didn't need Halt to tell him what his biggest problem was, and he didn't think Halt could help him fix it. Will didn't have his powers. He had no idea how they were sealed away or how to get them back. He thought - although Halt's probable disagreement made him wince - that, if he had a decent weapon, no leg shackles, and an idea of the layout of the building and number of monsters there, he might stand a chance of escaping.  _Might._ But Will had none of those things. Without his powers, his best chance of escaping was taking his utensils and stabbing himself with them.

Unless, for his betrayal of the Corps, the judges of the Underworld sentenced him to the Fields of Punishment.

Will shuddered. 

He needed at least an idea of the amount of Temujai in the building, and he needed an idea of how large it was. And he needed to figure out how the Temujai were restraining his powers. To do that...

As if in answer to his thoughts, the doorknob turned. Will's gaze snapped to the door. A hurried plan rushed to the forefront of his brain. He had no idea if it'd work, but it was the best he could come up with. He was running out of options. He needed information and this was the only way to get it.

The Tem'uj stepped in. Will had never learned his name, or if he even had one. Or if, in fact, he was a he, not an it. How much of the man he had once been was still there?

He carried a tray in one hand, filled with the food Will had become accustomed to seeing on there. He unlocked the cell door with his free clawed, distorted hand and walked into the cell. He placed the tray on the floor and then approached Will.

Will eyed him with an anger that was still unabated from exhaustion. The Tem'uj's continual interrogations were shredding his soul, but he'd be damned if he let that show.

"How are you today, Will?" the monster asked cheerfully, looking down on him from his far-superior height. He smirked at the boy. Will got the sinking feeling his acting wasn't as good as he'd hoped.

Will spat at him.

"That good?" A laugh; then a fist hit him, hard. "Any worse now?"

Will hid a wince, blinking to try and orient himself. He was far more dizzy than he should've been. The Tem'uj's short temper was well-known enough to Will that the blow hadn't been a surprise, but still it had hurt.

"No."

"Really?" The Tem'uj gave a cold laugh. Will got the sudden feeling he wouldn't like what came next. "That sounded about as convincing as you do when you tell me Halt still cares about his  _worthless_ apprentice."

A jolt went through Will's heart. He grit his teeth and said nothing.

"What, you aren't going to stand up for yourself? Tell me how wrong I am?"

"You're wrong," Will said. "You're a lying-"

He smashed against the wall. Will lifted his head and growled at the monster for good measure.

"You're remarkably determined for someone with no chance of escape," the Tem'uj scoffed.

Will took a breath. Time to put his plan into action. He put on his best arrogant facade. "No chance? It can't be that hard. There's what, ten of you?"

"Ten? You underestimate us, No-Name. We would not guard such a valuable prisoner with ten. Not even with five times that."

Will's heart sank. There were over fifty Temujai here? Even his most massive attack had only taken out half that, and he'd been incapacitated afterwards. If he fell unconscious again, he'd be leaving himself open for reinforcements to come and lock him back up. 

"One against fifty?" Will said confidently. "I can take down that many, easy."

"With what power? You forget that you don't have your godly powers, and you never will again." The monster sneered at him. "At least, not as a human. My lord would be more than happy to have your skills as a loyal Temujai."

Will gave a mocking grin. "And why do you think that? How do you know I haven't already recovered them?"

The monster gave a hideous snort and didn't deign to reply. Instead, he backtracked and picked up the tray of food before shoving it in front of Will. 

Will was hungry enough not to care about the abrupt end to the conversation. He didn't eat more than twice a day, and that was being generous - once was much more accurate.

He took the tray and eyed its contents. They were the same as they always were: a piece of bread, some cheese, and some meat or fruit, depending on the day. Although Will's mouth was sometimes so swollen he could hardly eat, or his eye so blackened he could barely see, he couldn't complain about the food he was given. He just wished there was more of it.

He picked up the bread and bit into it. It was a little odd-tasting, probably some kind of rye or oat bread. He'd gotten used to the taste over the time he'd spent in the cell; it was surprisingly good one you got past the oddness. 

"Feeling better now?" the Tem'uj asked mockingly after Will was done. "You know what comes next."

Will scowled. After he ate would inevitably come the questions. Questions that made Will doubt his own mind, his own sanity.

"Now, Will," the Tem'uj said patronizingly, approaching him again to take the empty dishes away, "you know why I have to keep doing this. If you'd just give us what we'd want, it'd be so much easier."

"Never," he hissed. 

An obsidian jaw clenched. "We don't ask for much. Just tell us where Apollo is - that isn't hard. Or even where King Duncan's daughter is."

"I've told you already, even if I knew the answers to either of those, I'd never tell you. I don't even know who King Duncan is!"

A slap. Will's head turned from the force of it.

"Don't lie," his captor said dangerously. "You know, you simply refuse to tell."

"I don't know," Will insisted. "And I'd never betray it if I did!"

The monster looked as though he would punch Will again, or maybe even take it farther. But then he stopped, and a slow smile crept across his hideous face - if it could even be called a smile. Will only saw blackened fangs curling around black, whorled skin. 

"Of course you wouldn't," he said, "you've already betrayed people enough, haven't you?"

The Tem'uj had done this before, too. That didn't mean it didn't hurt. Will glared at him, not trusting his voice.

"Vile, traitorous creature that you are, you think that abstaining from yet another betrayal will somehow atonefor all your crimes? You think that will make it right?" The Tem'uj scoffed. "Take it from someone who was sentenced to eternal punishment. You can nevermake up for what you've done."

Fear clenched Will's heart. That was his worst fear: dying and going to the Fields of Punishment for what he'd done. The idea of suffering forever, inescapably and inexhaustibly.

"You are a traitor and that stain will never leave your rotting flesh. All of my brethren can see it. I can see it. It's a black blot on your soul and it will never leave. You will never atone for what you've done."

"Maybe not," Will weakly, before he could stop himself. "But at least I-I can stop from making it worse."

"Worse? You're already going to hell. What else matters? You will suffer eternally. The amount of suffering matters not." The Tem'uj bared his teeth in a smirk. "You're going to hell, Will, and there's  _nothing you can do about it!"_

He said the last words in sing-song, then descended into mad, chortling laughter.

When Will sat, unable to make a response, the monster leered closer. "What, have nothing to say? What's the point of playing on the good side when they've all abandoned you? You're not even good, anyway! You're just an imposter, a wolf unable to fit in with the sheep. You're one of  _us,_ Will!"

"I'll  _never_ be one of you!" Will shouted, standing up.

He hit the wall with a thud.

"You already are! And there's nothing you can do to stop it. Your soul is  _black_ and  _vile,_ and you will never be able to fix-"

Will scrambled up, ignoring the throbbing in his head. "Liar! You're a liar and I-"

The creature suddenly had him by the throat. Will struggled violently, kicking him, biting him, but nothing affected the monster. 

"Listen closely,  _No-Name._ You were born as a nobody, and that is who you are. You can't escape from it. Nobody wants you, nobody will ever want you. You have no purpose in this world. You are nameless and unknown. You will never make up for what you've done, so you might as well stop trying."

He dropped Will callously on the ground. "The only worthwhile contribution you could ever make would be to tell us what we need. That's the only reason we need you alive - Gaea can always get another half-blood. Even my lord can be reasoned with. So you see, if you don't give us what we want, we might as well just kill you. And you know where you'll go once you're dead."

Will felt sick at the thought. Desperately, he told himself the Tem'uj was bluffing. Hadn't he just told Will that information was only a secondary reason for his capture? He'd just said that not long ago, just days or...

Or...weeks ago, Will thought bleakly. It could have been weeks by now and he'd have had no idea. And still, no one had come. He hadn't heard the faintest sign that anyone was searching for him.

What if...what if the Tem'uj was right? What if there were truly no one out there who cared if he lived or died? What if no one valued him or thought him important enough to live?

His captor must've seen the look on his face, for he sneered. "I'll leave you to think on that. Just remember: there's only one way out of here alive."

Then he gathered up the tray and left, leaving his words ringing in Will's ears.

Will sank lower against the wall he was leaning on and put his head in his hands.

No matter how hard he tried to deny what the Tem'uj told him, he couldn't. The things he told Will were the same things he had learned himself. There was no one who valued him, no one who thought him important enough to save. He had seen that throughout his entire life, even before Ferris, even before the Rangers. When his adoptive dad had given him up, when his foster parents had let him run away without trying to search for him, Will had learned those same things. He wasn't worth keeping. He wasn't worth searching for.

As much as he wished his captor's words were lies, he had experienced too much of the truth in them. If no one was coming for him, and if Will couldn't find a way to escape on his own, maybe-

"No," Will said out loud, trying to convince himself. "No, I can't."

His words sounded hollow. He wished he hadn't spoken them after all.

"I will find a way out," he said, trying to sound strong. "I swear I will." 

For a moment the world felt right again. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, the promise a balm to his battered spirit. I _will_ get out of here alive and unbroken, the promise said. I _will._

Even if, as his eyes moved to the door, he felt his doubts swarming in once more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like to imagine this chapter as a "Me vs My Insecurities - Epic Throwdown" YouTube video. We might still be crying, but at least we'll be laughing through our tears.
> 
>  


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact! Ever wanted to know the word for that feeling when you hear fingernails on a blackboard (or another sound as hideous)? English doesn't have one, but Spanish psychologists came up with one. They call it "grima." Not sure how it's pronounced but, unless Google was pulling my leg (completely likely tbh) there's an actual word for this now!

Alyss dismounted with a scarcely-concealed sigh. Her entire body ached from the weeks-long journey - a journey that still wasn't over yet. Every movement hurt, and she longed for a soft bed to spend the night in. She knew better than to wish, though.

Beside her, Cassandra and Horace dropped to the ground with the same exhausted gracelessness. All three of them stood still for a moment, surveying what lay ahead.

It had taken them another week to make it to the outskirts of Chicago. It was still afternoon, the sun barely dipping below the horizon. The chill of a particularly cold February day bit into Alyss's skin through her layers of armor. She shivered a little and hugged her arms to her chest.

Chicago's suburbs were coolly picturesque. They consisted of neat rows of homogeneous homes, not one out of place. Handfuls of people milled about: a middle-aged woman out for an afternoon jog, a group of kids playing tag, a young couple walking their dog. Everything was exactly as it should be. Nothing was out of place; no person was out of place. 

For Will's sake, Alyss hoped appearances were deceiving.

"So this is where Will's supposed to be," Cassandra said. Her voice was flat with tiredness. "Assuming that guy was telling the truth about everything and not sending us on a wild goose chase."

Horace and Alyss both gave her a look. All three of them had been thinking the same thing; they just hadn't seen the sense in speaking about something that couldn't be fixed. They had no way of knowing if the man was lying, but he was their best bet for a lead. And Alyss's tracking device  _had_ sensed a Temujai presence in the city. Still, the reminder that they were likely heading into either a dead-end or a trap wasn't appreciated.

Probably realizing that, Cassandra ducked her head. "Sorry. What does the tracker say?"

Alyss reached into her saddlebag and pulled it out. She considered it for a moment. "There're a few diverging trails leading farther into the city. Horace, can you pull up a map?"

For a long time, phones had been yet another way monsters tracked down demigods. Recently, though, some of the more enterprising children of Hephaestus and Hermes had created a chip that, when inserted into a phone, cancelled out the signals monsters used to track demigods down. The phones could still be used to access the Internet and, when on WiFi, text people, but calling was out of the question. Since demigods had IMs, no one minded much.

Horace fumbled in his bag for his phone and accessed a mapping app. A few seconds later he showed her a map with the layout of the city on it. Alyss perused it for a moment, then looked back at her tracker.

"Okay. One of these looks like it's going there." She pointed at a park a mile away. "I doubt they'd hold him somewhere like that, though. It's too open."

"What if there's some kind of underground passageway?" Cassandra interjected. "Like with Daedalus's Labyrinth."

Daedalus's Labyrinth was the reason for a legendary quest that had happened several decades ago, around the time of the First Great Prophecy and the death of the titan Kronos. The underground maze had hidden practically in plain sight for centuries, until the untimely death of Daedalus, its creator, had destroyed it. 

Alyss held in a sigh. Her friend was right. "That's a good point. The other traces are too faint to really track yet, so we might as well check out the park first."

Horace nodded and put his phone back up. The three remounted and Alyss guided them through the city to the park. 

Once there, they dismounted once more. Alyss checked the tracker. "There's a Tem'uj nearby. Probably only two from the readings, but I can't be sure."

"Should we take them out?" asked Horace, ever the warrior. One hand rested on his sword.

Alyss considered. "How tired are you?"

Cassandra and Horace exchanged a glance. "I'm fine," they said at the same time.

"Fine enough to capture a Tem'uj?"

The two other demigods blinked, then nodded.

"Alright then. Here's the plan."

She laid it out for them quickly. Since Cassandra could control the Mist and therefore turn herself functionally invisible, she was selected as their scout. Once they knew what they were dealing with, they would decide if it was worth it to try and capture the monsters. Or, Alyss thought grimly, if it was worth it to kill them.

Cassandra departed, fading into her surroundings as her magic took affect. Horace and Alyss stayed behind to wait. They sat on a bench on the edge of the park, their three horses waiting patiently with them. They were well-trained, so Alyss didn't bother tying them up. 

As Alyss sat back on the hard, metal bench, she let herself relax a fraction. Their quest had been exhausting thus far and promised to only get worse from there. Tracking down Will's captors meant constantly trailing Temujai, which meant the three demigods had had to kill their fair share of the monsters in the past weeks. Even a few minutes' rest was hard to come by, and she was glad to avail herself of it.

"Tired?"

Alyss turned her head a little to take in Horace. He was slumped back on the bench as well, a rueful glimmer of a grin on his face. He looked just as tired as she, if not more so. As the best warrior of the bunch - Alyss was primarily a tactician, and Cassandra a sorceress - it had been Horace who had landed most of the hard blows on the foes they'd fought in the preceding weeks. If anyone should be physically exhausted, it was Horace.

"As tired as can be expected," she said. 

Horace chuckled. "You like being vague, don't you?"

She considered that for a moment. It wasn't that she liked it, so much as she'd found it worked out better. It was more damage control than anything. "I find it can be useful at times, I suppose."

Horace nodded thoughtfully. "That's a very Athena thing for you to say. I don't think Ares kids ever mince their words like that."

"Probably why your cabin gets into so many fights," Alyss said blandly.

He looked offended for a moment, then snorted. "Probably. I love them, my siblings, but they're so reckless sometimes. Most times. They'll just charge into things without thinking of the consequences."

Alyss's lips tugged up a little at the fond smile on Horace's. Then his words stirred up her memories of Will and her smile fell. 

Will...was a mystery. Alyss knew well that he was intelligent, a good improviser, and a quick thinker. Yet for all that, he was extraordinarily reckless. Alyss had learned of the events of the Battle of Olympus and Will's role in it. Alyss's mentor, a messenger of Iris named Lady Pauline, had told her the entire story. Down to the grisly details of what Ferris had done to Will...and what Will had done to him in return.

The idea that Will is strong enough to turn someone  _to stone_ is not just sobering, it's scary. The ability to curse others is not uncommon among Apollo kids, but it's one thing to curse people to talk in rhymes. It's another to turn them to stone. Alyss, for all her intelligence, has no idea how he did it. From what Pauline said, Will has no idea either. Alyss can only hope that it doesn't end up backfiring on him. A curse that powerful...it leaves consequences. 

But there's something more troubling than Will's powers. It is his recklessness; his powers are only its outlet. For all his intelligence, how could Will not see that the wise thing to do would've been to tell someone about being blackmailed? Chiron would have listened, Crowley would have listened. If he had just told them, lives could have been saved. But he hadn't.  

Knowing what she did about him, she couldn't blame him for it. One night, mere days before he'd left with the Rangers, he'd told her about his childhood. It had been a trade: a game of sorts like 20 Questions. The information he'd given her had been scattered, incomplete, but Alyss was adept at reading between the lines. 

Will didn't trust easily and for good reason. He had trusted Ferris against his better judgment and Ferris had betrayed him. That had hurt him immeasurably. It had blinded him from all reason and made him extraordinarily reckless. Made him hide, lie, use powers he didn't even know he'd had.

And now he'd done it again, using powers he couldn't control to launch himself into a fight with some of the most powerful monsters on earth. All to rescue Halt.

"Everything alright?" Horace asked, tearing her from her thoughts.

She glanced around to check that their surroundings were still safe before replying. "Yes. Just...thinking."

"About Will?"

She blinked, surprised. Horace was more discerning than she'd given him credit for. "Yes. I'm worried. I know he's smart, but he isn't good at taking care of himself."

Which was odd coming from someone who'd lived on the streets. Survival should've been his top priority, but yet it was not.

"Don't worry. He's lived this long, getting captured won't change that. We'll get him out and back to his Rangers in no time."

Alyss gave him a small smile and went to reply, but sudden movement to their left stopped her. She and Horace sprang to their feet and turned, drawing their weapons, only to stop when they realized who it was.

Cassandra came to a halt in front of them, breathing hard. Her face was grim, her jeans streaked with dirt as if she'd been in a scuffle. 

"What happened?" Horace asked instantly, stepping towards her worriedly. 

It was strange; Alyss could've sworn there was more than simple concern in his expression. Something protective. Something that went beyond simple feeling. Duty.

"I'm fine," Cassandra told him. "Don't worry."

Her stance straightened as she said it. Alyss once more got the impression there was something more than friendly worry going on. Her last sentence seemed almost like a command.

"Did you find them?" Alyss asked.

Cassandra nodded. "Just two, like you thought. They appear to be sentries. They're patrolling the city at large. I didn't get too close but I overheard them. They got too close to my hiding spot though, so I had to run."

In their many fights with the Temujai, the demigods had but rarely heard the monsters speak. The first time had been a shock, and even now the reminder they could talk was a weird one.

"What'd they say?" Alyss crossed her arms.

"They mentioned having to go back to their base soon. I bet that's where they're holding Will."

Unspoken went the rest of the sentence.  _If he's even here._

"Good. Thanks, Cassandra." 

Alyss considered. If the three of them could simply follow the Temujai to their lair, was it worth the risk of capturing them? 

"What should we do?" Horace asked.

Alyss looked straight into his eyes and said, "Proceed as planned."

 

* * *

 

Thirty minutes later, the three campers threw a heavily injured Temujai onto the floor of an abandoned warehouse. Cassandra had conveniently spotted it once they'd subdued the creature, and it'd only taken ten minutes of heavy-duty wrestling to get the monster there. Ten long, awkward minutes of telling concerned passersby that the Tem'uj was just their unruly younger brother, nothing to worry about.

Now, with the dust of his comrade dirtying her skin, Alyss stepped up to him. 

The Tem'uj was just as unnervingly grotesque as every other. His jet-black skin whorled into spikes like armor. His dirty, gray hair matched the squalor of his torn and bloodied robes. Like all Temujai, he had no visible legs, and Alyss didn't feel like looking underneath his robes to make certain.

"You're quite foolish for demigods, aren't you?" he asked, baring his blackened teeth in a hideous grin.

Alyss had to fight not to cringe at his voice. Like all Temujai's voices, his felt like fingernails on a blackboard. There was something wrong with it, something hideously corrupted.

"Foolish?" Cassandra asked. She rolled her eyes. "You're the one tied up."

The Tem'uj looked disdainfully down at the ropes binding his arms behind his back and the heavy rock weighing him down - Horace's idea to keep him from flying off. "These? You think these can stop me?"

"They've stopped you so far," Cassandra said.

"Only because I let them. In just a few minutes, the rest of us will be here...I look forward to hearing your screams."

Cassandra stepped forward to hit him, but Alyss grabbed her arm to stop her. "Let me."

She stepped in front of her friend and eyed the monster carefully. There was a glint of insanity in his eyes that made it impossible to discern whether he was lying or not. If he were telling the truth they could be in grave danger. But this opportunity wasn't one they could easily pass up.

"You speak so scornfully of us for capturing you," she said. "Do you refrain from capturing our kind, then?"

The Tem'uj laughed at that. The awful cadence made Alyss want to cover her ears. He went on in a sing-song: "Your tact is commendable, demigod, but I see through it! Yes, we have him. What was his name - Bill? No, no. Will. We have your _precious_ Will."

Horace and Cassandra stiffened behind her. Alyss took a breath. She'd need to go carefully from here.

"We don't want to fight. If you'll just give him back-"

She was cut off by another horrendous burst of laughter. "Give him back? Our lord would never do such a thing, child. You would have to fight through his legions to even catch a glimpse of that boy."

Alyss gritted her teeth. "Then I'll do it."

It was a monumental thing to say. But Alyss had not come this far to give up now. She had promised Halt she would bring him back safely. Her pride simply would not let her return empty-handed. Especially when it was for Will she had promised.

"You damn yourself in thinking you can save him," the Tem'uj said. "By the gods, your hubris will send you to the Fields of Punishment themselves."

"I don't care. Just tell me where he is."

The Tem'uj began to laugh again- and abruptly stopped. His eyes flashed down to the knife at his throat.

Behind her, both Horace and Cassandra gave a quick intake of breath. Cassandra she'd expected: from what Alyss knew, she had had quite the privileged upbringing. She'd only come to Camp Half-Blood last year and was still unaccustomed to violence. Horace was a little more surprising. It was ironic that such a powerful warrior was so taken aback.

Unfortunately for the Tem'uj, Alyss had neither Cassandra's upbringing nor Horace's gentleness. She only had her goal and a singular desire to accomplish it however necessary. If she had to threaten a heartless monster, so be it.

"You'd kill me either way," the Tem'uj said. "Why should I help you?"

Alyss's eyes narrowed. She spoke the next words with utmost precision. "Because if you don't, I will make you regret ever having been born."

There was utter silence. For the first time, as the Tem'uj scanned his captor's face, he seemed afraid.

Alyss stepped forward. She pressed the tip of her dagger into his cheek, dangerously close to his slit-pupil, soulless eyes. "Do you want to get started?"

The Tem'uj stared at her for a long moment.

Then he said, "There's an office building off of Lake Street a quarter mile from here. That's where we're stationed."

"Thank you."

Her blade plunged through his heart. She drew it out covered in dust. When she turned to her friends her eyes were cold and determined.

Horace and Cassandra stared back at her, eyes a little wider than usual. Alyss knew they hadn't expected that of her. They would do well to learn that when she made a promise, she would never break it. 

Horace swallowed. "If he hadn't told you, would you have..."

"No." Alyss wiped off her dagger and sheathed it. "I would never torture, not even a monster. I just convinced him otherwise."

"What would you have done instead?" Cassandra's voice was between casual and confrontational.

"Knocked him out and used him as a hostage."

Looking from face to face, Alyss knew neither of them approved of what she'd done. She wasn't surprised. Horace had a strict and unbending moral code, and Cassandra had never experienced anything like this. But they understood why she'd done it and they were content to follow her still, and that was enough. Alyss didn't care if they approved of her actions; all that mattered to her was Will and the unnerving threat the cashier had given them a week earlier. And both of those things hinged on how they dealt with the Temujai.

"I understand if you don't approve of my actions," Alyss said calmly, meeting their gazes. "But I have lines I will not cross. I see no problem with lying in order to obtain critical information. After all, how is it any different from your powers, Cassandra? Controlling the Mist means manipulating reality."

Cassandra looked at her thoughtfully. Then she shrugged. "Like you said, you were just bluffing. I know you and you're not sadistic like that. It just caught me off guard, I guess."

Horace nodded. "You were really convincing. I thought you would actually do it for a moment."

"Well, I had to convince the Tem'uj," Alyss said. "The two of you ended up being collateral for a bit, I guess. But you understand now."

Cassandra nodded as well. "It was an act. We know. We're still gonna follow you."

Alyss didn't let the relief she felt show. "Alright, then let's go. We have a hostage to free."

 

* * *

 

They were wearing him down.

Will could feel it. He was an already tattered and threadbare garment; the Tem'uj unraveled him thread by thread, day by day. First it had been the hem; then the sleeves; now stitch by stitch the Tem'uj worked his way to Will's heart.

If Will resisted, he unraveled faster. If he didn't, he allowed the Tem'uj to take him and fashion him into something else. Into something new, something wrong - the newest Tem'uj in the legion. He refused to let that happen.

At every turn Will tried to escape. He scrabbled for every scrap of information he could find, and with each scrap his hope lowered. There were always more Temujai, more patrols, more miles to cover until safety. He had no weapons, no powers, no allies. And every day brought lower chances of ever having those things.

Days ago - weeks ago? - Will had looked around his molding cell and a voice deep within him had murmured, "You're not leaving here alive." 

A deep, low foreboding had accompanied the voice. Will had shuddered and turned away from the rancid waste-bucket he had just finished using. He'd looked up and accidentally looked straight into the lone light-bulb lighting the room. He'd blinked against the searing light.

Not for the first time, he'd wondered why the Temujai had the technology to power his room with electricity, yet not running water. And not for the first time he'd known the answer: they wanted to humiliate him. To make him feel less than human, because that was what they wanted him to become.

Will knew that one day, the Tem'uj would go to unravel the last stitch and halt at the last knot - his last resistance. He knew that, given enough time, the monster would untie the knot or simply tear it asunder. And he knew that if he didn't find a way out before then, he was lost.

As the Tem'uj stepped into the room, Will looked at him.

And that same voice inside him turned away and said, "Today is that day."

His responding shudder was bone-deep.

The Tem'uj smiled at him in his ghastly way and said, "Hello, No-Name. My lord is getting impatient. I'm afraid we don't have much longer to dawdle here."

Will's eyes flicked to the cell door: unlocked. To the door behind it: shut. To the Tem'uj standing between them.

"What, don't tell me you're nervous!" The Tem'uj darted forward and grabbed Will so swiftly he couldn't react. He dangled Will in the air like a rag-doll and shook him like a terrier worrying its prey. 

"I-I'm not."

"You're not?"

Will thudded to the ground. The appalling amusement on the Tem'uj's face vanished.

"You should be."

There are few things more terrifying than an insane aberration of nature looking you in the eye and telling you to be scared. Will had seen a great deal of terrifying things in his life: monsters beyond description, his mother's death, the near-death of so many of his friends. And perhaps this wasn't the scariest thing he'd seen, but this was the most helpless he'd ever been.

"Do you know why you should be nervous, Will No-Name? Do you know why you should be scared?"

Will stared up at the Tem'uj in silence.

"I'll explain, then. You see, we have a deadline." The creature smiled for an instant as he said the word; Will felt a touch of foreboding. "The Earth Mother will rise soon. We have been preparing for decades. But in order for this to happen, we need blood. The Earth Mother has chosen who she wants. Two demigods. You are one."

Will swallowed. 

"You remember I said  _deadline,_ yes? Any two drops of male and female demigod blood will awaken her. But the Earth Mother wants more than mere drops. She wants sacrifices. Only the best for her awakening."

The Tem'uj ran a claw down Will's face. He flinched back hard. The claw had nicked a still-healing bruise from two days ago. 

"Now, if she was the only one to require you, No-Name, you would be dead already. But my lord has a...fascination with you. He wants you alive, a willing servant to his plans. It is his wish that has kept you alive thus far. But it won't last much longer. The Earth Mother and Abyss Lord are...stronger, unfortunately. So here is your choice: you can submit to my lord and live...or you can refuse and be sacrificed."

The Tem'uj forced Will's eyes to meet his own. "What will it be? Submit, or die?" 


	12. Chapter 12

Halt strode into the Empire State Building's lobby with an expression that made the crowds of tourists inside step backwards. Whispers in every language from French to Arabic whistled through the air as he passed. He ignored them entirely. He shoved past a child too young to understand she needed to move, letting her resulting wails go unheeded. He had eyes for only one person: the maroon-uniformed, white-faced receptionist.

He didn't need to hold out a hand. He didn't even need to speak a word. The receptionist placed the key to the 600th floor on the desk with trembling fingers and averted eyes. Halt took it in one movement without breaking stride and stepped straight into one of the waiting elevators.

As the doors shut and the elevator began its ascent, Halt closed his eyes. The chill in his demeanor softened in pain.

It had been twenty-six days since he'd last seen Will. Twenty-six days of hunting down every stray band of monsters Apollo had sent him after. He'd killed Temujai by the dozen; empousai by the half-dozen; and even a dragon when the situation called for it. There had been some days he'd shadow-traveled back to Olympus with his cloak covered so thickly in dust he could no longer make out its mottling. On those days, like every other, he would go to Crowley and ask. 

It was always the same question.

It was always the same answer.

After the first mission he had gone with expectation, even anticipation. It was an expectation that dimmed every time. Eleven missions later, it had dimmed to nonexistence. Now there was nothing left except the chill inside him that had so terrified the mortals he'd just walked past.

Halt had never been the type to rage. If you had asked him, he would've said it was not the Ranger way. So he didn't rage. But that didn't mean he didn't get angry; no, it just meant he was silent when he did.

Every time he went to Crowley, the Ranger Commandant told him the same thing. "Just a few more days," he'd say. "Just until we've cleared up New York, then you can leave." But weeks had replaced days. Halt would not let months replace that. Will would be long dead by then. Could even be dead now.

The elevator doors opened and he stepped out. His eyes wandered over the imposing gate to Olympus, then to the mortals hundreds of feet below. He allowed himself a moment's hesitation - one last chance to decide if this were truly the course of action he would take.

Familiar regret mixed with the anger inside him, dampening it. What he had come to do would not be pleasant for anyone, least of all himself. It would destroy him, his honor, his life.

Yet if he turned back now, he would be rejecting the very thing that made him human. The lifeline that had kept him from disintegrating into the Styx when he had taken on Achilles' Curse. His heart.

Halt set his gaze forward and began to walk. 

Olympus was warm and balmy, as on every other day. Minor gods and goddesses mingled in the open-air marketplaces and gardens, buying wares and chatting. Few of them spared a glance to Halt. The few who did turned away, their voices instantly hushing.

No one attempted to bar his entrance to the Hall of Olympus, but Halt paused anyway. This time, as he looked up at the lightning flickering across the celestial bronze, it was not out of hesitation. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. The next moment, he walked inside.

Celestial bronze braziers lit up the grand hallway, the Greek fire inside them casting shadows that made Halt look as tall as a god. He considered them for a moment with a sense of irony. He was less than a third the size of a god, yet in the brazier's shadow he seemed their equal. He shook his head and strode towards the throne room door.

"I'm afraid I'll have to stop you there."

Halt went motionless. "Crowley."

His tone was dead quiet, flat, and entirely without emotion. Yet as he turned around, he still saw pain in his friend's eyes.

"I know what you're about to do. I'm here to stop you."

"For my sake, or Apollo's?"

The words hung for a moment suspended in the air. The bitterness in Halt's tone made them all the uglier.

Crowley looked at him sadly. "Halt, why are you doing this? You've never been one to put your wants before your oath to Apollo."

A shadow flickered over Halt's face. "People change."

"Never you. Never this much." Crowley shook his head slowly, lips tight. "Is that boy worth your _life?"_  

Halt didn't reply.

Crowley sighed. He had nothing against Will, was even rather fond of him, but they were fighting a war. There was no time to hunt for a single Ranger's apprentice. He had tried a half-dozen times to convince Halt of it and had failed. Yet, he found himself opening his mouth to give it one last try.

"They aren't even going to kill him! If they'd wanted him dead, they wouldn't have captured him."

"They didn't want him dead _at the time,"_ Halt retorted. "I imagine once they've gotten what they want from him, they'll see no point in keeping him alive."

"You don't know that," Crowley said, volume rising, "and even if you did it's not your problem."

"It's not my problem?" 

Crowley felt the temperature drop and gritted his teeth. "For the gods' sakes, he's a Ranger, Halt!"

"An apprentice," Halt corrected, "and my responsibility."

"A  _Ranger._ He bears the laurel wreath just as we do. He took the oath just as we did. And it's not like he's out there alone! There's a whole quest's worth of Half-Blood demigods tracking him down."

"No," Halt said steadily, ignoring the last part, "he didn't take it. You don't take the Stygian oath until you're a full-fledged Ranger."

There was a few seconds' silence. Crowley closed his eyes. He had come there hoping he would be able to stop Halt, but now he realized he was already too late. There was now nothing left to do but watch his closest friend suffer.

"Your mind is made, then."

Halt didn't respond.

In the same quiet tone he'd used before, Crowley continued. "I'm not strong enough to stop you. When it comes down to it, you've always been the better fighter. But  _please,_ Halt, think about what you're about to do."

Halt matched his tone. "I already have."

"Have you?" Crowley looked at him pleadingly. "No matter how much others might think it, you aren't a god. You can't survive this."

Halt turned away. "Will can't survive the Temujai."

He opened the door to the throne room and stepped inside. Crowley only stood and watched him go. Pain lanced through his heart as the door shut with an echoing bang.

Inside the throne room, Halt met the gazes of all five gods currently in there: Zeus, Ares, Aphrodite, Hestia, and Apollo. Not a terrible mix of gods; not a great one, either.

Zeus respected him after his actions won them the Second Titan War, but nothing could change the fact that he was born to Zeus's rival by breaking the Big Three Pact. Ares also respected him since Halt had nearly beaten him in a duel. Of course, that respect came with a hearty dose of dislike, as Ares was proud and none too happy about nearly being beaten by a mortal.

Aphrodite was generally apathetic to his existence. When he had first met her, she'd given him a single appraising glance and turned away with a bored expression. She'd complained about his "boringly requited love interest" and how it was "so dull I'm falling asleep." Ever since then she'd ignored him.

The one positive relationship he had in this room was with Hestia. She felt a special kinship with demigods who were lost and forgotten. Sons of Hades were often both, and Halt had been no exception - especially when his very existence was a crime. She had aided him many times throughout his life; he returned the favor by tending to her hearth-fires whenever he could. 

His gaze locked with hers. She was in her preferred form, her deceptively childlike frame barely coming up to his shoulder. He would never understand how she could be so comfortable in a room where those around her were five times her height.

She gave him a long, sad look.  _I am sorry for what you will suffer,_ he heard her say inside his mind.  _If it were in my power, I would take this from you. But some things are beyond even the gods._

He just nodded. There was no need for an apology. He had decided to do this of his own free will. He would take the consequences without flinching.

He walked forward to Apollo's throne and bowed.

"Halt O'Carrick," Zeus said from Halt's right. "Give us a reason not to smite you where you stand for coming here uninvited."

Halt ignored him. Zeus was last on the list of gods he needed to worry about. Far higher up was the god at whose feet he stood now. 

"My lord," he started, then paused. Apollo was the only god he had ever called his lord. It occurred to him that, given what he was about to do, the title was no longer fitting. "Lord Apollo, I have come to ask of you a boon."

Apollo's presence seemed dimmer than usual; the ever-present glow about him had faded almost entirely. He was perched on his golden throne like a bird about to take flight, his expression eerily grave. As the god of prophecy, he no doubt had an idea of what was about to happen. 

"What would you ask of me, Halt?"

A muscle twitched in Halt's jaw at the single name, no title or surname attached. He had been a loyal servant to Apollo for decades. They had been close enough to be on familiar terms such as those. But for today, Halt wanted no reminder of that. 

Halt straightened from his bow and took stock of the situation. Zeus still looked angry. Ares looked mildly interested, Aphrodite as bored as she always did around Halt, and Hestia had turned away. 

"I believe you know already," he said quietly. "I want to find my apprentice. Your son."

Apollo seemed almost to blanch at the last sentence. His feelings towards Will had always been a mystery to Halt. He had chosen to give Will unprecedented powers and accepted him into his Corps. But, from what Halt had gathered from Will, the god had also abandoned the child to a life that was less than ideal. 

It wasn't uncommon for the gods to leave their children behind. Zeus, Athena, and Aphrodite especially were known to care little for the sufferings of their offspring. But Apollo was one of the few - along with Hermes, Hades, and Dionysus - who genuinely seemed to care. He would occasionally drop by to make sure his kids were okay, getting them out of harmful situations if necessary. He had never failed to claim a child before age twelve.

Until Will. Will had not been claimed until he was fifteen. And from what Halt had managed to learn via careful questioning, he had been alone when Ferris had found him. What that was supposed to mean, Halt didn't know. But he didn't like what it implied.

"Halt, I've already given my orders," Apollo said. "You're lucky I'm in a good mood; if I were not, I could punish you for insubordination for daring to even ask such a thing. And that's already overlooking your trespass into the gods' throne room. You have no god's permission to be in here, and it seems you have no reason, either. Leave, before our tempers grow unpleasant."

He flicked his hand. The same warm energy Halt had often felt from Will now flooded the air. But whereas Will's had never felt dangerous or unpleasant, Apollo's was stifling and gave off a distinct hint of warning.

Halt did not move. "Lord Apollo, you are a compassionate god. You have always protected your children; why is Will different? Yes, he has...made mistakes. But he doesn't deserve to suffer for them. Especially when he has labored month after month to fix them."

He swallowed down the bitter taste of irony which his words had given him. Just a few months ago he would've rejected those words himself. Now he no longer had it in him. The slow-burning grudge he had held tightly for so long had burned into nothing. Now there was only fear - fear that Will would die before Halt found him.

"There are eighty-nine other Rangers who can do what I have been doing. There are none who have my responsibility over Will or even the skills to find him as quickly as I can. Lord Apollo, I beg that you allow me to do this."

It was not often that Halt begged, and all of them knew it. Yet as Halt looked at Apollo, he knew his words had failed to get through. And although he had expected that from the beginning, a deep feeling of regret lodged itself into his stomach. Now he truly had but one more option.

"You test my patience." Apollo was growing angrier. "Will is a concern neither of yours nor mine. Leave, Halt."

Halt lifted his chin. "I refuse." 

The gods all gaped as one. Aphrodite shifted to the edge of her throne, all traces of boredom gone; Ares looked as though he couldn't decide if he wanted to pummel him or congratulate him. Zeus was glaring at him. Hestia was nowhere to be seen.

A flicker of pain flickered across Apollo's face. Then anger replaced it.

"You come here, uninvited, to the gods' sacred hall, a crime of itself. I would've been willing to forgive that! I could've even forgiven your plea, being that it comes of human weakness and it's merciful to acknowledge you mortals' weaknesses. But there is no forgiveness for such clear disobedience."

Apollo stood, towering over Halt. “Because I am merciful, I'll give you one last chance. Leave and never ask for that again."

Halt took a breath. "And if I refuse?"

Apollo sighed. The anger on his expression dimmed. There was a great depth of understanding in his eyes that made Halt realize he already knew what was going to happen. And behind that, an even greater depth of sorrow.

It was a great pain indeed that caused a god to pity.

"Then you can regard your oath to me as broken."

 

* * *

 

"What will it be? Submit, or die?"

A whirlwind of thoughts swept through Will's head. As he stared at the Tem'uj standing before him, his thoughts whirred so swiftly that his surroundings seem to shift out of focus. His vision and thoughts narrowed to two things: the Tem'uj and the ultimatum he had given.

Submit or die.

Will had never considered that he would die. He was a prisoner, after all - if they'd wanted him dead, they wouldn't have taken him captive. But if the Tem'uj was to be believed, his lord was running out of patience. And Gaia wanted him dead more than he wanted Will alive.

 _Was_ the Tem'uj to be believed? Will scanned the figure but found nothing. There was no way to find the truth in his insanity. He could be lying, he could be not; there was simply no way to tell. But if Will were gambling with his life...

"Well? The Earth Mother grows impatient, No-Name. Her power is growing. If you don't make up your mind soon, I will choose for you."

To submit would be the ultimate betrayal to everything Will valued: the Ranger Corps, the people he cared about, humanity itself. 

To refuse meant his death. Was that not a betrayal as well? He still remembered Halt's last words as the Temujai had dragged Will away. _"Will! Stay alive! Don't give up! I'll find you wherever they take you!"_

If he died, if he gave up, was that not its own betrayal? A betrayal of the only man who had ever-

He closed his eyes. He forced himself to finish the sentence: the only man who had ever been a father to him. How could he betray that?

But no matter what he chose, he would do just that. If he submitted, if he joined forces with the Temujai, he would betray Halt with his mind. If he refused, he would betray Halt with his life.

The Tem'uj broke through his reverie with a fist that sent Will stumbling backwards.

"We don't have all day," he snarled. "Submit or die!"

"No, I-I can't."

 _"Can't?"_ the Tem'uj said. He grabbed Will by the throat, claws digging into his flesh. "If you won't choose, No-Name, I will."

"I- can I-" the Tem'uj's claws dug harder into Will's throat, winding him. "W-Wait! Give me- just give me time!"

"We have given you time, child." The monster slammed Will into a wall. His head hit the mildewed stone with a thud. Will grunted in pain, blinking the darkness out of his vision. "Time's up now.  _Choose."_

Will struggled, gagging and trying to speak, but in vain. As the seconds ticked by, the lack of air combined with Will's racing heart began to wear on him. He felt his legs begin to go numb and realized this was his last chance to escape. 

He reached deep inside him, gave a desperate prayer to any god who'd listen, and  _yanked._

A flicker of light, barely more than a spark, sank into the hand locked around Will's neck. The Tem'uj screeched in surprise and drew his hand back, letting Will go. He dropped to the ground with a groan and struggled to standing. Just that small burst of light had nearly drained him dry. What had they done to him?

Will lunged, tackling the Tem'uj to the ground and punching him in the head where his scar was. The monster let out an inhuman shriek. He clawed at Will, forcing him to shift to the right to avoid him. As Will did so, the Tem'uj threw himself onto Will, toppling him to the ground so he was on top instead. 

"Give up,” he hissed. “You won't defeat me. And even if you did, there are legions after me."

Will stared up at the unforgiving face of his captor. His labored breathing was ragged and loud in the tense stillness of the cell.

"I'll give you one more opportunity. If you won't submit...I'll kill you where you stand."

There was only one thing that Will knew with absolute certainty. He set his jaw and lifted his chin. "I will never betray them."

"Very well." 

The Tem'uj raised one arm, claws gleaming dimly in the light.

Will thrashed violently, kicking and screaming with all his might. When the Tem'uj's other arm came in front of him, he bit down on it as hard as he could. It was like biting stone.

The Tem'uj shrieked, hitting him in the head so hard he passed out for a moment. He came to seconds later, but it was already too late. The Tem'uj had an iron grip on him, and this time Will knew there was no escape.

Had...had it really come to this? That had been his last chance to escape. He had no more. He'd failed.

Blood trickled down his face, accompanying the throbbing in his skull. His entire body was covered in scratches and bruises both from his recent struggle and from the abuse he'd been subjected to over the past weeks. Whatever flicker of power he'd had was gone, leaving him limp and numb to the bone. He was too weak to struggle. He had exhausted every path of escape. He was out of time, and there was no one coming for him.

The Tem'uj's arm raised again.

Will sent one last prayer to Apollo.

Then there was nothing left to do but die.

But just as the Tem'uj's arm reared back to strike, Will heard a sudden commotion outside the door. Raised, guttural voices shouted in a cacophony that stopped right in front of the door. It wrenched open and another Tem'uj stuck his head in. He looked disheveled, as though he'd just been in a scuffle.

"We're under attack. Everyone to arms."

Will's Tem'uj snarled. His grip around Will's neck tightened, causing Will to choke. "I'm busy!"

"To Tartarus with your business," the other Tem'uj snapped. "Our facility is about to be compromised. Get out here or I'm reporting what's left of you after I'm finished beating you to dust."

Will's Tem'uj growled but released Will. He went to the door but stopped as he reached it and turned back. "Don't worry, No-Name. The next time you see me, you'll be a dead man."

Then he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I can't escape from the memes: when Apollo's yelling at Halt, there's one line I subconsciously modeled after a meme and didn't realize it. After I wrote the "you come here, uninvited, to the god's throne room" bit I kept wondering where I'd heard that before. Now I remember.
> 
> YoU cOMe iNtO mY HoUsE  
> dISrESpEcT M Y M I N T S
> 
> In other news, is it getting angsty enough for y'all? No? Good, because it only gets worse from here. :)


End file.
